Limerick Poems (108)

Lazy old grandpa sat to sleep
Light rain wets in the double beep
tickle flew in a fly
Old eyes said good-by
Big toe wiggled the target deep

Flamingos legs are tall and thin
Why should the curves be on their chin?
Watch them on one leg
Lifting two is no bet
Falling birds would have always been

Scarecrows are ugly as can be
In a moonlight sky, they are free
They give you goose bumps
Better take a light or jump
For Halloween, best to pee

Sharks are large predators at sea
Son pulls daddy and sits on knee
Afraid to swim, Daddy?
No Son, that's my gabby
These Two pictures shows how you flee
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"World's Head Honchos Playing Hide-n-Seek!"

Oh, look, what do I spy on the horizon, so sleek?
It seems the world's head honchos are playing hide-n-seek!
They hide behind curtains of power, grinning ear to ear,
Delighting in the grand theater we've come to hold dear.

Who's that behind the UN's tree, somewhat shy?
Could it be the Secretary-General, playing the sly guy?
He laughs cautiously, controlling the world's pulse,
But can't resist the game, deep into which he's immersed!

Hear that, what's that noise? A whisper from NATO's fort!
The game entices even the strongest, no matter their sort.
With each resolution, each pact, they hide a smile,
Ah, this game promises to be quite worthwhile!

There, behind WHO's shield, can you see that playful shadow?
In the battle for global health, there's a boss echoing a meadow,
A song to this jolly game, though it seems unorthodox,
Indeed, this cosmic hide-n-seek has us all in a paradox!

From the IMF's headquarters, the echo of laughter thunders,
Despite economic crises, here no one blunders.
They play hide-n-seek with coins, such a clever game!
Truly, this is a play filled with much acclaim!

But let's not deceive ourselves, not all is fun and laughter,
This hide-n-seek of the powerful can have its own disaster.
Every round plays with destinies, each turn a nation,
And though the game is comical, we cannot ignore its equation.

Oh, world's head honchos, in your power seats hidden,
Could we, perhaps, ask for a game less midden?
We could play at building, creating, and sharing,
Together, making this world a better place for living.

I once had liked
Nay, loved her
I guess
But here I was deep in the pooh
For in the pot
Her remains were Stew!

If she believed she was perfectly free
to notice or not whatever she chose
why should she care
that a meaningful stare
was fixed on none other than she?

What was so outré about anyone
taking a drink at her favourite café
lauding the view
of the old and the new
at ease in the temperate sun?

Was there anything strange about her face
that until right now she hadn’t observed
or could this be
coincidentally
the starer’s most coveted place?

Was there a smidgen of food near her nose
or some dirt or debris on her jawline
or had she been
inconveniently seen
by one of her earlier foes?

The was the moment for sowers to reap
She commanded her eyes to obey her
Pivoting right
they then stopped in mid flight
for the starer was sound asleep!

f*ck you, I hate you

Ten little boyfriends looking so fine
One was obsessed with food and wine
Then there were nine.

Nine little boyfriends asked me for dates
One comes always so very late
Then there were eight.

Eight little boyfriends searching for heaven
One was dishonest, appearing nice even
So there were seven.

Seven little boyfriends learning varied tricks
One fell down and just got sick
Then there were six.

Six little boyfriends very much alive
One get addicted to dancing the jibe
And then there were five.

Five little boyfriends knocked at the door
One broke his head falling on the floor
And then there were four.

Four little boyfriends who loved the sea
One got drowned, so sad you see
And then there were three.

Three little boyfriends who were nice and true
One disappeared without any clue
And then there were two.

Two little boyfriends loving the sun
One caught cancer when his skin was burned
So there was one.

One little boyfriend oozing with charm
But too dangerous for anyone
And then there was none.

So let me take the time to tell quite a tale
It’s a tale of a girl, a woman, a wonderful female
What makes her so awesome, is this what you ask?
Well let me reply after another shot of whiskey from thy flask

We can cover some basics, that should be a good start
first and foremost she is really and adorably smart
that’s too easy of an ice breaker is what you say?
what if I told you she usually ends up getting her way

one can kick, one can scream, and put up a fight
she can simply smile at you once and you’ll admit she was right
now she could be right, and she could be wrong
it typically doesn’t matter for she is mentally strong

are you not convinced yet? well upon further review
heres a few more traits, so listen closely from me to you
she can be cunning, vivacious, beautiful, and sweet
not to mention stunning, and the cutest lil pair of feet

she’s been through hell and back ,put thru a lot of misery
and with everything life has thrown at her she still claims victory
shes also imperfectly perfect, flawed like a typhoon
just think, even the prettiest of angels can sing out of tune

Wild and free, to be admired from afar
yet to be graced with her presence is quite the shooting star
for I wish I may and I wish I might
tell you the tale of this woman, to whom is always such a sight………………

~ Magical Fingers ~

Magical fingers that tingles the spine

Massaging her shoulders
They feel so divine

Rubbing her love handles
Giving her such a delight

Wanting to make love to her
Especially tonight

Holding your love one
With all of your might

Kissing her lips lightly
Everything goes ~

Massaging her feet
And tickling her toes

Holding her close
And whispering in her ear

Saying all the sweet romantic things
She is wanting to hear

Magical Fingers
Playing their tune

Hold her close
You will be kissing her soon

Brushing her sweet lips hungrily with yours
And holding her tight

Love spirits are with you both
The rest of the night

Romantic Poet
JimEee

So he fetched her the ocean in a marble,
wrapped up in a velvet rag,
and tied with a golden braid
from the dreams of a white-headed hag...
She twiddled the glassy green sea-sphere,
its white horses frozen inside,
then she bade him:
"Release me that stallion!
Else ne'er shall I be thy sweet bride!"
Well he smiled:
"I know just how to do it!",
and he pitched the glass ball at her throne -
she was still picking shards from the cushions,
as he danced with the white-haired old crone!