Limerick Poems About Daughters | Daughter Limerick Poems
Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: humorous,

Dead Animals are Everywhere

"Oh, honey," he cried on the phone,
"It's terrible being alone.
I'm feeling the blues,
and I have some strange news"
He went on and on with a moan.

"I went to the back yard one day,
not too long after you'd been away.
Do you know what I found
everywhere on the ground?
Can you guess what I'm going to say?"

"No clue," I said"Why don't you share?"
"Dead animals are everywhere!"
If he'd not shouted,
I may have doubted,
but then he said, "Baby, I swear."

I was taken aback, so I said,
"There are animals? And they are dead?
What kind might they be?
Tell me how many?"
Just to think of it gave me some dread.

Since it sounded so terrifying,
I thought what a terrible thing.
Had our yard become scary
like the pet cemetery
I had read of by novelist King?

Were they poisoned? Were there rabbits too?
In the back of my mind I just knew
that his tale was too tall.
I was not wrong at all.
As it turned out, the number was two!

For I called up my daughter who said
she had gone there; what she saw instead
of some big horror show
was just her dad Joe
with one snake and one bird that were dead!

Written July 1, 2016 :  True story with a bit of exaggeration making hubbie look wussyBut I'm not far off the mark!! This happened a long time ago when I had gone to a family reunion and left hubbie alone for a week!! Our daughter was newly married and went to the house to see all the "dead animals everywhere"  For the Tell a Tall Tale Contest of Jesse Day



 


Poem Details | by Silent One |
Categories: pets,

It Was One Of Those Mornings

One cold morning our rabbits ran away they thought it was a funny game to play for hours we called their name free they wished to remain my little daughter Sara cried all day Woke up the next day after a cold night thought the bunnies must have had a sad plight heard Sara laugh and scream thought it must be a dream hunger brought them back, to our delight! 13 March 2016 It Was One Of Those Mornings - Poetry Contest by Sara Kendrick


Poem Details | by Theresa CW |
Categories: fun, humor,

Humdinger Spice Apple Pie

Humdinger Spice Apple Pie

Yesterday I baked a humdinger spice apple pie
Then my daughter called said she’d stop and give it a try
She was smacking her lips
Couldn’t take any tips
She told me I’m the queen of all the best apple pies.


Written: 2014 in the Autumn
Theresa Marie


Poem Details | by David Bose |
Categories: humor,

Farmer Brown's Daughter

When Farmer Brown’s daughter grew busty,
The men pulling turnips grew lusty.
Brown then had to choose
Which shotgun to use
If one of those hands proved untrusty.


Poem Details | by Caryl Muzzey |
Categories: funnydrink, red, wine,

Teetotaler

I once knew a sedate gent with class,  
who would not drink red wine at church mass.
Would take a wee sip,
to wet his wee lip,
since red wine made him expel built gas.

Was time for his daughter to marry,
gentleman who liked to drink sherry.
Being a good dad,
he toasted the lad,
then prayed for audacious canary.

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl SMuzzey


Poem Details | by Owen Yeates |
Categories: girl, dad, dad,

Freya

A young girl called Freya it’s said
Had ginger hair all over her head
Her dad of her was fond
He said it’s strawberry blond
Not ginger and certainly not red


Our nieces daughter is Ginger haired but her dad is adamant she is not so wrote this for him.


Poem Details | by JAN ALLISON |
Categories: children, humorous, mum,

GREEN MEANY

She stood innocently picking her nose Wiped green slime upon mummy’s pretty clothes When her mum saw the mess Even she will confess That mum and daughter almost came to blows Apologies for the subject..but the challenge by John Wulf was to come up with a limerick to use with his picture 8th July 2015


Poem Details | by Beau Regard |
Categories: art, people, father, art,

A Portrait of Vincent VanGogh

To the proud parents, Anna and Theo
A serious lad, silent and thorough
A clan of preachers
And dealers of art
From the southern Netherlands came Van Gogh

When sent to school, he did not want to go
The separation led to much sorrow
But he learned to draw
Whatever he saw
Sent off to sell art in Paris, Van Gogh

His happiest time, and now in love, oh
Till the landlady’s daughter told him no
Now a broken heart
Surly to sell art
Fired from his job in Paris, Van Gogh

Vincent sought out a coal miners’ burrow
A priest of sorts, but a squalid fellow
The church was appalled
And cursed his resolve
To the asylum for crazy Van Gogh?

His father baffled, on the verge of foe
Art interest, once again, began to grow
Back to school again
This time, in His name
To paint in the service of God, Van Gogh

School’s out, back to his parents he would go
Using neighbors as subjects to ditto
Proposed to his cousin
Which she found disgustin’
Burning his hand to see her, holy Van Gogh!?!

Now off to The Hague, a family furlough
To live with Sien, a boozing bimbo
A man to see ya…
Caught gonorrhea
Three weeks in the hospital for Van Gogh

The pain of loneliness drove him back home
Once again, a failed love with fair Margot
Then Vincent’s father died
He grieved deeply inside
The tragedy further refined Van Gogh

Finally, Vincent’s work was in the know
“The Potato Eaters” made an art show
Just add more color
Said his dear brother 
Rubens brightened the dark gloom of Van Gogh

Vincent’s diet: coffee and tobacco
Mixed with absinthe began to take its toll
Though he kept on painting
Then Paris, more training
The end was getting closer for Van Gogh

The masters: Monet, Degas, Pissarro
Cezanne, and Seurat in his studio
Influenced his style
Learning all the while
That time was running out for MrVan Gogh

Then he moved to Arles, bad health in tow
Completing great works the whole world would know 
“Sunflowers” (in vase)
“The Café Terrace”
Minus one ear, the frail, ailing Van Gogh

With his tattered mind, and mournful woe
Committed to the asylum, Mausole
With his final works
“The Church at Auvers”
“Starry Night” was painted in pain, Van Gogh

“At Eternity’s Gate”, he was sorrow
Wandered into a field, farmer’s fallow
Put a bullet in his chest
In hopes of peaceful rest
“The sadness will last forever”, Van Gogh


Poem Details | by Ralph Sergi |
Categories: humorous,

Such a pail

Such a pail 
I have a sweet beautiful daughter
Who is always fetching me water
Each day without fail
she has such a pail
When my daughter brings me the water

Limerick  Contest  December 24, 2015
Sponsored by Jan Allison


Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: allegory, dream, wisdom,

Some thoughts come in code

When unsurpassed greed's uncontrolled
King Midas' story be told!
The steps to his stash
Cast his daughter for cash
She's an allegory of gold


Author's note: I had a vivid dream a few nights ago Part of it included a feeling that I needed to check my personal stash of valuables I thought the items were locked in the basement However, when I came to the door to the staircase leading down expecting it to be locked, it was ajar I opened it all the way, and there was a child coming up the steps We looked at each other, and the child tumbled down the stairs and appeared dead It was a terrible feeling The poem above is one interpretation of what I might have been trying to tell myself There are other interpretations as well However, I am left with the idea that our society's focus on the material is destroying our love for each other and our families This is a huge problem for me and has taken a lot of my thought time over the past few days Meanwhile, I tell myself to enjoy each day, and I try.


Poem Details | by Mindy Gregersen |
Categories: sympathy

Dawn the Stalker, part 1

There once was an old hag named Dawn
Over a married man online she would fawn
Though she fancied him often
They had nothing in common
And her comments made him wan

When he politely turned her down
She sat, with an acid frown
But there is more to this picture
You see, Dawn was a spinster
And her schizophrenia was akin to a loaded round

She fancied herself a prophet of God
The scientist she was pursuing was hardly awed
He lived it up online with his friends
But her stalking behavior with others should portend
His sense of security would soon be trod

Dawn had a penchant for delusion
("Don't all 'prophets'", suggested the atheist's conclusion!)
And as her warped mind played its tricks
It conjured up a scenario so sick
And none could distract her from her intrusion

She stalked him, day and night
Posting threats and his address online
She decided he was pretending to be other people
And her invective turned so lethal
That some she accused of being him were in quite a fright

As months became consumed with her obsession
Her poor husband and daughter lived in depression
She got fatter and fatter
And his friends' comments on these matters
Accelerated her ego's aggression

She threatened him with scripture
And cut the head off of a belly dancer's picture
But he remained unimpressed
Happily married, he stressed!
But on her rotten mind, he was still a fixture


Poem Details | by Martin Kloess |
Categories: car, daughter, father, funny,

People Help Survivors After Storm Drives Through a Town

The people who were still alive
Helped other survivors revive
All this didn’t bother
An excellent father
Who just taught his daughter to drive


Poem Details | by Mystic Rose |
Categories: blessing,

ETERNITY


Another morning has come to open the lids on my face 
I must do my part to rise above, it all begins with "Thee" 
the prayer, the tilt of the head 
the feet, the shuffle out of bed
Without God I think I would disappear without a trace 
I must do my part to rise for it all begins with me;

Another day is calling me I am devoted to the cause 
I must help the ones who need it most cause I am 
his daughter by birth 
sitting round his girth 
Without God I would be nothing by a long big pause 
I must walk the talk and talk of him, cause I am 

Another devotee, God's intende, I am his for eternity 
Another votary disciple that knows HE IS.. ETERNITY,

Itself...


Mystic Rose xxx

January 16, 2016
 


Poem Details | by POET. UNDERTAKER |
Categories: humor,

The Lady


Once there was a lady by name Glory,
the daughter of a duke, John Gregory.
Stylishness! Admirable! Grace!
Precision! Behavior! Appearance!
Bloody notWoman of a “Big Family”.


Poem Details | by RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY |
Categories: fun, funny,

Uncle Solerino had a daughter

                                     Uncle Solerino had a daughter El Niño
                                  She was a pretty sweet little kittle albino
                                         Her young brother Chlorophyll
                                               Ended in jail of Gilgil
                        She whirled across the stage and married a quinquino


Poem Details | by Owen Yeates |
Categories: daughter, food,

My Daughter

My daughter her name is Kim
For Indian curry often has a whim
She farts like firing a rifle
They smell more than just a trifle
As for her husband I’m sorry for him


Poem Details | by RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY |
Categories: fun,

Paul's camel Tahli


                          Paul's camel Tahli loved  DrOetker
                            Mugged for the camera of  Baker
                                   And went out for a date
                                With Oetker's daughter Kate
                          He was out of date as a love maker


Poem Details | by RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY |
Categories: daughter,

Tanno my daughter

                                     Tanno my daughter of the dewling's wish
                            Sheds pearls all the day with Grimmelwood's swish
                                                 Elves collect the pearls
                                                   For leprechaun girls
                                    And ripe wild mangoes fall with a squish


Poem Details | by Paul Schneiter |
Categories: humor, marriage, wedding,

Enough Already

It was the sixth wedding for daughter Judy
who was quite plain and hardly a beauty.
Time came to give away the bride
whereupon her Father replied
"five times I've tried--I've done my duty."


Poem Details | by Willy Munyoki |
Categories: love, love,

Blessed Nancy Mumbe

Beloved, do you remember me,
Like I always remember you?
Engrossed by love of thee,
So I can little do!
Souls I’ve had and turned back,
Except yours I can’t resist;
Darling, do you remember me?

Now come and live with me,
And be my love right away;
No lad and lass will better be
Coining delight night and day;
Yes, our bet and bill of bad romance.

May we always stand as one
Until eternal rest do us separate;
May God bless us with daughter and son,
By their sight we may elate;
Ever being Blessed and Willy.


Poem Details | by Adell Foster |
Categories: art, daughter, education, family,

Ma Dropping It Like Its Hot (Limerick)

MsPotter caught her daughter Lollipop
There dancing in the grocer’s parking lot
And scolded her profusely
‘Til someone cranked up “Juicy”…
MsPotter stopped and dropped it like it’s hot


Comments:
How soon some forget that they were once young tooIf the power of dance is ones 
passion it is not the worst vice a child can have, in fact it is good exercise One 
Love


Poem Details | by T Wignesan |
Categories: humorous,

Limerick: Once a Toro loved by a Matador

Limerick : Once a Toro loved by a Matador

Once a Toro* loved by a Matador*
Maimed between shoulders by Picador*
Matador garrocha*
Picador muchacha*
Picador cornudo* Matador.

*Toro : bull raised for fighting in arenas (rings)
*Matador : « matador de toros », bullfighter ; usually
               the head « torero », title obtained after the
               « alternativa », ceremony honoring the torero
               or « novillero », the apprentice bullfighter
*Picador : the well-protected assistant to the matador
                on horseback who wounds the toro between
                 the shoulders in order to cause the bull to hang
                 its head 
*garrocha/garrochar : (to use) the long lance with a metallic 
                 harpoon-like head , wielded by the Picador 
*muchacha : Spanish for girl or « daughter » as in this case
*cornudo : cuckolded (husband gored)

© TWignesan – Paris,  2013


Poem Details | by Sean Kelly |
Categories: funny, music

WHEN VINCE TOOK D RAP

A     poetry  writer  named  Vince
Had  some   lyrics ,and  tried  to  convince
His  young  daughter  to  say
That  rap  had  it's  day 
Now , poor  Pop  is  Hip Hop , ever  since


Poem Details | by Angie Mae |
Categories: caregiving, death, devotion, friendship,

Remains and Residue of Love

56 years

Now he lives on the 8th floor, 
she lives on the sixth

2 floors, 
two buttons, 
and 20 feet away


He travels 
by cane

Relieved 
they don't make those things 
out of saw-dust, 
she lives 

2 buttons, 
two floors, 
and 20 feet away


Too much momentum 
to spin her attempts, 
he waits for her guide downstairs.

Paces in front of the window each day, 
and when she makes her move, 
he hurries down 
-well, he tries- 
so she won’t assemble outside, 
unaccompanied

Always wondered what they talked about, 
perhaps the loss of their only daughter 
thirty years ago

perhaps not.

That other day 
she sat alone, 
and I thought 

..he may have just had taken a nap..
and as she rested there waiting, 

she joined him, 
in the only way she could.



Poem Details | by Dorian Petersen Potter |
Categories: food, hilarious, humor, humorous,

An Old Fellow

(Limerick) 


There was an old fellow from Pinner 
Whose daughter ate lots of lunch and dinner
Then woke up one day 
Very obese by the way
And now she's so fat and not thinner! 


Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 
copyright@2014 


September,1,2014 


Poem Details | by T Wignesan |
Categories: humor,

Limerick: Once step-Father gave daughter away

Limerick: Once step-Father gave daughter away

Once step-Father gave daughter away
But first exercised his rights of sway
Droit de cuissage decree*
Gave to Wife repartee:
Doubled their joy now in every way!


* In European feudal societies during the Middle Ages and thereafter 
in succeeding centuries, it is thought that
the Lord of the Manor or Seigneur of the Serfdom arrogated for himself
the Droit de cuissage, i.ethe right to sleep with the bride of a serf on
the wedding night.

© TWignesan – Paris, 2014  


Poem Details | by Anisha Dutta |
Categories: appreciation, bird,

Feeding The Ducklings

                 Feeding The Ducklings

      While picking up my little daughter from school
       We were to follow the path passing a pool,
             only to watch ducks and ducklings
             swimming, playing, gaily giggling.
      Blowing breeze over water was soothing and cool.

     My child was to throw bread-piece from pocket
        or to hit tiny fruits with her racket 
        to drop those and float on water surface.
      Flock of ducklings swam on rapid race
   to swallow floating fruits on prompt attempt.

     On her primary school days that was a routine.
      Feeding of ducklings was funny and fine.
         Merry ducklings always follow duck
         Amusing cheerful calls ‘Quack-Quack’.
      A sweet remembrance of my child and mine.

    05/12/16

                  

 


Poem Details | by Earl Brown |
Categories: devotionhope,

LOST IN THE WORLD

Have you ever been lost? 
with no sense of up or down
what could be the cost 
of a lifeless body they found
a man that lost it all
there's nothing he has left
nobody left to call
nothing left but death
but wait is that hope i see up there?
a daughter he left behind
thoughts of the smell of her hair
memorys that cut and bind
nope that was just hope 
and a love he me never find


Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy, humorous, universe,

Trump An Old Clod

Trump An Old Clod

Trump had become an old clod
Wanted women with beautiful bod
A prior Miss Universe insulting
Psychological problems were resulting
Can you imagine him being made by God.

About Trump I wrote a long lyric
About big head that is hemispheric
But short limerick wrote instead
By Trump down path were led
Would not understood word esoteric.

Will Trump's reality really recover
While over us he does like to hover
And what I find most infuriating
Women always seems to be hating
Likes thinking he is a great lover.

As in Trump Tower sun arose
Tells many lies with a long nose
We are starting to get suspicious
Said daughter does looks delicious
Has psychological problem I suppose.

No matter where Trump goes or went
His actions are all really irreverent
And in mighty tower when it is misty
Business he will plan which is risky
Can you believe he has God's consent.

Jim Horn










Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy, humorous,

Poor Swan Named After Trump

Poor  Swan Named After Trump

Trump lied and told another story
In each category and got the glory
Told bunch of bologna about alimony
Orange hair wore around in a Tony
Without teleprompter that is gory.

Personality centers around possessive
Also is compulsive and obsessive
Lesser of two evils he always knew
As well as many more and quite a few
Sure is such a horrible way to live.

Trump never gives and always will take
And not admit he made a mistake
Idiot belongs in asylum for the insane
Which we all knew pure and plain
Experience into a movie he would make.

Trump's mouth flew with animosity
Can't imagine him having generosity
In psychology course they did forbid
Terrible super ego and a horrible id
Instead he took course in pathology.

Likes tarring people apart and things down.

Trump became a fool who is fastidious
His bright orange hair is really hideous
And wears his long tie below the belt
With beer bottles people want to pelt
Does think his daughter looks delicious.

Jim Horn









Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy,

More Trump Neddling

More Trump Neddling 

So I planted the seedling.

Trump's name has such a horrible sound
Every time when he will be around
When he talks each word in his breath
Surely seem to bore you to death
And many lies to tell he is bound.

Causes hysteria in a big mass
Not only that is pain in the ass
And each time we pass him by
Below belt extends Trump's long tie
He has been profane and also crass.

Trump always hits below the belt
And how horrible it always has felt
Me my vote he will never gain
In his tremendous ass is big pain
By him dirty deal we were dealt.

They talk about really being gaudy
And sure has such an ugly body
Talk about others should not do
No matter what is point of view
Even has been know to be haughty.

Trump thinks name is a nemesis
At tower and all of his premises
Enema is what he really does need
For all of the bull he seems to feed
Sons are a prince and daughter a princess.

Which is why they call him King Trump.

Idea doesn't have foggiest or remote
Why for him would anyone vote
What he does receives much disdain
A Hillary fan I will always remain
And guarantee this makes him gloat.

Jim Horn

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx









Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: allegory, analogy, humorous,

Trump Daughter Horn Limerick

Trump Daughter Horn Limerick

Fair maiden has for a daughter
And many bad things Trump taught her
How to pucker up lips
With tongue make several slips
Also like him others pander.

Jim Horn