Three Limericks Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Three Limericks
There once was a poet named Stu,
he would write 'til his fingers turned blue.
When he searched for a rhyme
he committed a crime,
they said only free-versing for you.
In the greatest of rivers, the Nile
lived a six meter crocodile.
A reptilian purist
he would eat only tourists
you could tell when he had, by his smile.
My great uncle Dan is no more
he would sleep standing up and would snore.
With his mouth open wide
a huge roach crawled inside
and it left through the open back door.
There was a young lady called liz whose limerick was lacking in fizz So she whipped out her pen And said once again Dear Herbert your Limericks the biz.
There was an Oz poet named Herbert whose limerick source had been severed so he wheeled out his own to an obsence of groans Now we all think old Herbert is clever
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 11:00:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
We've had our concerns about words Whose meanings have flown with the birds So, I'll offer this truce For my phrasing abstruse To be sealed by the sheathing of swords