There once lived a poet named George
near the Falls of Carnarvon Gorge.
He ran out of ideas
and to us it appears
that he secretly started to forge.
So he copied from Chaucer and Suess
which of course was a blatant abuse.
When he went to the printer
in the middle of winter
he'd manufactured his noose.
In the bookstore he sat, smugly signing,
many copies, the people were lining
all the streets from the park
until way after dark,
with the moon and the streetlights shining.
At the stroke of the midnight hour
from the clock of the old Limerick Tower
through the door wandered Suess
with an ancient recluse
and for George the whole world went sour.
very good herbert you love limericks dont you i bet you could recite them all day and we would read them Warm regards allan
I do love how you write! You are a true inspiration. I will truly celebrate 'Limerick Day! ' :) Mary
The spelling nitpicker gets caught yet again making a spelling error. This pot kettle stuff remains quite amusing.
Why don't you go jump into the cesspool you came out of. You have no knowledge at all as is very obvious. Your hatred for whatever ails you is so obvious and you do need help badly. If you hang around here we will have to get rid of you. No one takes you seriously here, you make no rules and you may as well realise that. If I say Dr. Suess then it is Dr, Suess. Olanzapine may be what you need. H
It's 'Seuss'. NOT 'Suess'. And even when spelt the correct way, Seuss should never be in the same sentence as Chaucer. What an ignoramus. You display no working knowledge of the study and enjoyment of literature at all. As your poems illustrate only too well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent write, laughed very much at this! Amanda