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In the village there lived a strange hound,
he would always just wander around.
When he sniffed other critters
he would suffer the jitters
and you soon found him underground.
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There once lived a grouchy old broad
who behaved like an arrogant god.
One could see on her shoulders
not a chip but big boulders
and her shoulder pads looked rather odd.
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There once was a dummy named Ark
who would hide and then shoot from the dark,
with the chest of a pigeon
and the brain of a smidgeon.
And his bite was as weak as his bark.
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In the cold near the stormy Atlantic
stands a cottage that looks quite romantic.
And the man who's inside,
he has something to hide.
And his secrets look rather pedantic.
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A granny who was a great poet,
she has posted her and we all know it.
She has once been so tipsy
that the gang named her Gypsy
so she seized all her talent to grow it.
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There once was a lady named Flo
who made Pizza from blackberry dough.
And this wonderful snack
turned consumers all black.
That's a racial remark as you know.
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There once was a grumpy old Kraut,
he was blond and blue-eyed and quite stout.
And he proved a quick learner
and his first name was Wernher
he was almost an astronaut.
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There once was a groucho named Hitler,
he imagined himself as a fiddler.
He climbed up to the roof
and the world then went poof.
And I dedicate this to Bett Middler.
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In the desertland close to San Diego,
sits a woman and plays with her Lego.
She is probably fat
with the face of a bat
and she drives a dark blue Winnebago.
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I once knew a grumpy old Jew,
they had baptised the boy, named him Prew.
He became my best buddy
when he helped me to study.
He's now running the Hannover Zoo.
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There once was a Condoleeza,
she required no visitor's visa.
When she went to Beijing
for a little old fling,
but was told off by Chinaman Geezer.
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There once lived a man named Hussein.
He was powerful, cruel and vain.
Then the big Honcho Yankee
who despised Hanky-Panky
he devised a neat plan in his brain.
Get the ruler of all those strange turbans,
and behead him to end this disturbance.
And to make people free
he would give them the key.
And Iraquis would start drinking Bourbon.
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There once was a leader named Howard
who had all the fine traits of a coward.
On the word from the Yanks
he had ordered his tanks.
And his friendship has thus never soured.
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And in Moscow they have this man Putin,
all his aides must be constantly tootin'.
He is leading old Russia
like a balding bold Pascha.
And would like to be much more fallutin.
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It takes talent and wisdom and skill
to compose a good poem at will.
If your effort indeed
does at first not succeed
you can swallow a cyanide pill.
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Poems dedicated to Clarice - Poet
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Note:
All the above is limerick practice. Any similarities with
people or other living entities ought to be considered
purely coincidental.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read poems about / on: romantic, people, poem, running, dark, woman, women
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