Limerick Poems About Families | Family Limerick Poems
Poem Details | by David Fisher |
Categories: business, humorous,

Ice Cube Pie

I always wanted two slices of ice cube pie
“You only get one”, was the standard reply.
I don’t know why I did
But since I was a kid
It was my favorite treat on the Fourth of July.

The pastry is known by all our relations
Since the recipe’s passed down for generations.
Every bite you’ll savoir
Exceptional flavor
But remember, don’t settle for imitations

Long ago, my great Aunt tried experiments
By leaving out one of the ingredients.
Once Uncle took a bite 
He stared out in fright
And barely survived that bad experience.

My oldest son, Johnny became quite wise
He grew up like the others, before our eyes.
His passion for confection
Was a gainful connection
When he opened the first ice cube pie franchise.

Soon after that, we made our first million
And played in the sun with friendly Brazilians.
But to our surprise
We saw ice cube pies
On bamboo platters next to our pavilion

Right away we knew this was an infraction
Without delay our family took action.
We found a private eye
Who loved our ice pie
But his research left him broken in traction.

It was apparent to us that that kind of job
Was endorsed by the brutal ice cube pie mob.
But we didn’t frown
Or give up and back down
We were going to prevail; oh, yes siree, Bob!

With a meeting of minds we gathered resources
And then undersigned the following courses.
To make sure our ices
Sold at cut-rate prices
To knock competition off its high horses.

So back at the shop we assembled platoons
To build enough pies to reach to the moons.
And made plenty dough
That allowed us to mow
Down the cube racket’s, knuckle dragging goons.

We now manage an ice cube pie monopoly
Sales started smooth, but then turned choppily.
So we eased the frustration
With another vacation
But guess what we saw in downtown Mexicali?!

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 Seren Roberts |
Categories: pollution,

Do it properly - quote contest

Quote.( Do not know who originated it, but used in the family at all times.) "If your going to do something do it properly"
There was an old man called McGinn Put all his refuse waste in one bin It should have been sorted His reasoning is thwarted In clearing up his mess to begin.
Penned 3 May 2015

Poem Details | by JAN ALLISON |
Categories: humorous, time, work,


Woke up this morning - had a dreadful shock I had not set the alarm on my clock Swore until the air turned blue - I’d missed my job interview! My family think I’m a laughing stock Got phoned this morning everything’s fine - Was offered a job by a friend of mine Any hours I choose I simply can’t lose I’m a ‘secret shopper’ my job’s divine! Contest- it was one of those morningsSponsor Sara Kendrick 03~05~16

Poem Details | by Tahera Mannan |
Categories: funny

Graveyard Rendezvous

On the fateful day before Halloween
Dressed as a vampire queen in green
I passed through the graveyard
With all my senses on guard
When I heard a rustling mean

In horror I turned around to see
Who had the audacity to scare me
Saw an old man bending low
Chiseling his name in a row
Looked to be a veteran escapee

I told him not to disturb the grave
When he started to turn and rave
His family didn’t spell him right
And he with his might
Had come out his name to engrave

Poem Details | by tammy cox |
Categories: bullying,

Bullying kills the SOUL

Bullying kills a SOUL

The look on beautiful face 
was missing today
She seemed distant and 
lost far away 
As I got closer a tear rolled
slowly down her face
Her eyes sad and heart
out of place 
A hug and love did not seem 
to make a change at all
Is there something that I 
missed or someone I can call?
As the days still ticked by 
second to minutes then hour
She just looked like she was
fighting something that was
about to devour 
I stood quietly outside her
room and overheard my
baby girl start to cry
I gently sat close held her
precious hand and asked why?
Her cheeks covered with tears 
and she could could hardly
say a word
I knew my baby girl definitely 
needed to be heard 
Our family began picking 
up the puzzle pieces to make 
her WHOLE again 
With lots of love and effort we
we're able to change the sad into 
better over time gone by 
She was able to HOLD her
head HIGH looking to the 
Bullying is veery serious 
and causing our kids to 
take their own lives across 
this WORLD you see 
The  CHALLENGE will not 
be easy and will take some
time, form a line behind ME

Tammy Arrowood 2-10-2018??

Poem Details | by Anil Deo |
Categories: allusion, cheer up, fun,

Adding Limerick: From reply to April 2 Jan Allison's Wee Man

But Jan, is this a Limerick trick? 
Your family, truly, has no Dick and no Rick.
I could have sworn 
Since I, too, had been born 
my family had to have had one MrDick!

(c)Deo.I could not bring myself to declare it as clearly last weekNow Good Friday gives way to naughty Saturday.have at itShalom.Smile: Jesus is not a prude, but He does have standards (No adultery, for oneHave limericks though)

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: abortion, anger, christian,


Kavanaugh grew up in a cave
Never learned how a judge should behave
This caveman likes beer
And ladies must fear 
Becoming this drunkard’s sex slave

Despite his bad manners revealed
Kavanaugh might not be repealed
He’s t-rump’s first choice
To kill Roe v Wade’s voice
And take women’s rights far afield

Author’s Note: This Supreme Court nominee pleases the fundamentalist Christians If he is confirmed, the very wealthy will also be cheering since he is a supporter of the super-rich, who have no problem taking their private jets to Canada if someone in their family or mistress needs an abortionThe concentration of wealth and the elimination of social programs is what this is really about.

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: silly,


My family is temperamental..half temper..half mental Some days both apply, but I try not to be judgemental We should all try to get along But at times relief's prolonged When the pot boils over, temper and mental are coincidental

Poem Details | by Linda-Marie SweetHeart |
Categories: love, happy, happy,



Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: history, son, god, earth,

The Gods' Family Tree

An Egyptian I never could be,
but since reading of their history,
in limerick form
I now write to inform
my friends of the Gods’ family tree.

From “Waters of Chaos” came Nun,
the only God under the sun.
The first piece of ground
rose up as a mound.
Hun stood there and coughed up a son!

Hun spat out the God of Air, Shu,
and he spat out a cute goddess too.
Tefnut was her name.
Moisture was her fame.
She and Shu beget children - two!

Their son was named Geb; the girl, Nut.
I’m not sure how to say her name, but
I sure like to say
Goddess Sky’s name the way
that rhymes with the famous King Tut.

When he laughed, the son Geb, “God of Earth,”
made the earth shake beneath his great girth.
I think Geb is busy
in modern days, for he
quakes often, for he’s fond of mirth!

For the tale to proceed, there ensued
some more incest, and not to be crude,
Nut, the Goddess of Sky,
got it on with the guy,
King of Earth, and they had a big brood.

There came forth from their coupling,
Queen Isis and a new Earth King,
Osiris, who was
a good king because
he ruled all rebirth, a great thing!

One son, against harmony, came
to kill Osiris, and his name
was Seth; once again
like the story of Cain -
an envious brother to blame.

But Seth got his just desserts when,
having married his Mom Isis, then
he was killed by HIS son,
named Horus, who won
the throne, and so “good” ruled again.

From Seshat to Sekmet to Rah,
Gods were worshipped by ancients with awe.
You’d have worshipped them too
had you been born to do
your poems on papyrusHa ha.

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: life,

My Family Doctor

Never ever had a family doctor for most of my life But since becoming an old fart, now I never ever think twice A pain in my lower regions Or my neck or some unknown adhesions Off I toddle, don't rely on the roll of the dice © Jack Ellison 2015

Poem Details | by Dustin Craig |
Categories: confusion, dark, death, depression,

Mediocre Man

There once was a man that was lackluster
Who's life was one giant cluster
Writes a suicide note
He slits his throat
Blank stares are all his family can muster

Poem Details | by Lu Loo |
Categories: animal, pets, silly,

Animal Antics

One ticket admission to my home z o o! SO many creatures, don’t know what to do- a turtle and a bunny, a stinky pug so funny, a Golden Retriever who lost a s c r e w! The bunny likes smelling the dog’s behinds, too bad he will NEVER know what he’ll find! a grossly dingle-berry, something hairy and scary, “GO find a carrot you’re way out of line!” The pug snuffles and snorts through out the night, then I’m yawning while I’m struggling to write- the turtle has a long neck, I’m always like, “WHAT THE HECK?” then he basks while choking on a termite! You may think my family is distressed, and maybe we NEVER get any rest- a million bucks I won’t take, we have a bond that WON'T break, we do love our z o o that’s quite picturesque! Syllable Count: 10-10-7-7-10 Animal Antics Contest Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton Dedicated to my beautiful zoo: Bo-my sweet Golden Retriever age 11 (dying of cancer :(....) Mugsy-my stinky Pug age 12 Lucky-my white fluffy bunny age 3 Pebbles-my long-necked turtle age 2 Date Written: August 18, 2016

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 Margeret Bailey |
Categories: childhood, food, friendship, funny,

The Legend of Smelly Nelly

Smelly Nelly was quite a charming girl,
She wore her hair in braids instead of curls,
Bathing several times per day in the Jewish way,
Yet many scoffed and sniffed,
exclaiming she smelt like manure in hay,
Nelly used expensive oils and attars,
some came from lands very far,
Her raiments were made of the finest silks
but people still told her she smelt
like days old milk,
They shunned and booed her,
talking behind her back,
hoping and praying she would have a heart attack,
The gripe they harbored had nothing to do with
Nelly's smell, it was because her family owned
several oil wells,
Neverthelss, she brought her own lunch which made
her naysayers feel as if they were incompetent bunches,
The farce of living as the Joneses do, never appealed to
Nelly because she knew the value of a dollar,
So while folks snickered and stared, corking their noses
causing her despair,
She sat and ate her snicker doodle sandwiches with her
little pinky waving in the air,
Smelly Nelly they chanted everyday, but she shrugged
her shoulders and continued on her merry way,
Cartier, Chanel and Youth Dew were always in her backpack,
but she knew it was hard for critics to understand her modest lifestyle,
They all rumoured that she lacked!
Afterall, she rather "enjoyed" their ignorance,
watching them treat her as if she were a rotten as mere happenstance,
But Nelly soon conquered her critics by blossoming into a
lovely swan, forgetting about the negativity, and meanness,
leaving the penny section to stew in their own mess......

Poem Details | by Nyonglema Pisoh |
Categories: africa, hate, history, home,

The Grass is Greener

We’re not called upon to choose anything we live through;
Neither parent nor sibling nor school nor form of sinew;
Neither colour of hair or eye or skin,
Nor love or hate, nor loss or gain
Nor opportunities nor whence we comeSo much is true.

But as much as this truth I hold as true as sunlight,
I know that painful times will time to time alight
When with bitter phlegm you curse
The earth where you breathed first
And wish your day of birth were scratched by He with might.

I knowSame feelings have plagued my adult soul
And the wish for better home to make each day whole
Has been dashed by shameful news,
Where Hope, seeing Hitler, and 94’s Hutus,
Needs to hide its youth to stall the death toll.

But amidst pain, hate and bottled despair rife
There’s the rare love, innocent and hardly grasping to life.
For here, we can give our all
When we choose to keep you from a fall.
We really do it: humble, loving…just like the Lord’s life.

Yes, it’s easier to perceive the weeds in one’s garden
For the pastures beyond gleam in our myopia, hiding their burden.
And seeing that weed can cast a shadow
On all that’s sweet, but cause much ado
About the bitter parts, and it day by day your heart will harden.

Think of the evening breeze on the night grill,
Feeding the flames of a delicious family fish meal.
Think of hitting the unadulterated
Lands of hills where ancient rivers percolated
And happy goats skip, and cattle graze and one can feel

Life whizzing through rustling leaves of dancing old tree or reed,
Playing the music our ancestors learned to read,
Making your lungs touch their purpose,
Dazzling your eyes like a Jabbawockeez pose,
The music we’ve forgotten as we focus on some RSS feed.

Think of the youths wise with tradition re-enacting solemnly
The dances and music handed down from before when Ptolemy
Phrased ancient philosophical data,
To the time of the expansive empire of Sundiatta
Beads stomping the dust frantically in musical poetry.

Picture the pure darkness which crowds the silent night air,
Unveiling the marvellous dotted and scattered there
In the moonlit heavenly canvas,
Watching us from light years past,
And we fascinated by the sparkling magic they share.

So to sum it all up, I know it cannot be perfect,
And sometimes I rant and make massive graffiti of its defects,
But this home my parents chose
Still draws my spirit close,
For the bond is deeper, far deeper than human senses can detect.

(c) Nyonglema

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: abuse, bullying, culture, humor,

A question of value

They do dirty jobs without fuss
And bring to our culture a plus
We claim they're unfit
And upon them some spit
Yet illegals are better than us

Author's note: It's ironic that the people who promote family values would deport the parents of US citizens (children born in the US to alien parents)

Poem Details | by Duke Beaufort |
Categories: funny love,

My favorite republican for 2016

The Castros make Rubio rowdy
To them he'll never say howdy
Marco's so steady
So why he is ready
To kiss the kings who are Saudi?

Author's Note:  Are Saudi Kings beloved by their people and so much better than Cuban dictators?  Do Saudi royals not need body guards or a secret police force to maintain order?  Do they travel among the people and never use private jets?  Are the decisions made in Saudi Arabia completely democratic and open? Does the royal family limit its personal wealth out of a sense of fairness to its people?  Do they treat women fairly?  OMG--Could Raoul and Fidel be so much worse than our friendly ally?  Never forget who crashed the planes into the twin towers They weren't Cubans!

Poem Details | by Cecilia Macfarlane |
Categories: life,


 I have been seriously working too much
With family and friends I been out of touch
              My apologies to all 
             I wasn't having a ball
 Luckily my sweet guy has been my crutch

04/ 11/ 2014

Poem Details | by Black Eyed Susan |
Categories: animals, funny,

Tyrantasaurus Rexsue

There once was a T-Rex named Thor
Who found he couldn't reach for
His family jewels
So improvised "tools" -
That's why all the dinos are saur!

If you judge by the 
size of it's feet, the T-Rex

for "Show Me the Funny" contest

Poem Details | by Sara Kendrick |
Categories: animals, father, funnyold, old,

Rat With Chunk Cheese Shoes

There once was an old man from Thomaston
Who said old rats like cheese like young rats, son
~~My favorite shoes sport rat~~
~~Who eats chunk cheese where he sat~~
Constant reminder of old man with pun

(About a year before my father died at age 96,
we went to a funeral and a lady of about 38 to 43 
years old escourted him from the family car to the 
cemetery..The farther they walked the more he
leaned into her..My husband said something to him
about it..He said old rats like cheese just like young
rats..I found a pair of pj with shoes with the rat and
cheese..Always a reminder of my father..)

Poem Details | by Adam Wheaton |
Categories: funny

My Attempt at a Limerick

the neighbor's grass is always greener
and their house is always cleaner
but just remember
that come December
their family won't be any leaner

Poem Details | by TIMOTHY CARTER |
Categories: growing up, introspection, journey,

Where Did It Go

As I sit here and wonder where did it all go,
  Why did I hurry to get here is something I do not know.
My life has pased by so quickly just a blink of the eye,
  Can't remember all the things I've done or the reasons why.
What was the purpose of this it all seems so insane,
   I'm left with nothing but emptiness am I to be the blame
Where are my friends and family am I the only one left,
   I guess because of what I've done this is what I get.
This isn't what I was looking for not what I imagined at all,
   There is nothing I can say or do and theirs nobody I can call.
Will it ever become clear to me why don't I understand ,
   Is this that wonderful plan was that God has made for man?
The path I chose to follow always seemed to take so long,
   I'm begining to believe that just maybe that I was wrong.
Thinking about all the things in my life that have come to past,
   Down deep I have always known that they were never meant to last.
So this is what it is like to reach this old age of mine ,
   I'm starting to see that it was never really about time.
Waiting seems to be all there is for me to do these days ,
   Untill the time that light shines bright showing me my way.
Feeling much better now that I have come to see,
  That there was a plan and it was made especially for me.

Poem Details | by Charles Henderson |
Categories: familyme,

My Ten Grands and More

One of my grandsons, name of Benjamin He likes eating toast made with cinnamon But uses his wits To not eat his grits Then excuses himself like a gentleman Charlie thrives on competition Out smarting you is his mission Bear hugs Tiny bugs, And “stick to it” repitition William’s impish smile is contagious The attention he wants is outrageous That slobbery kiss He can’t let you miss Borders on being sanctimonious The little princess is Laura Nance She wears frilly, girlish underpants She loves a warm lap Cartoons and a nap Getting attention with a coy glance Joseph loves learning karate He seldom is rude or naughty A steady grind Kicking behind Finding wisdom beats the haughty There is much to say of Caroline She is definitely DNA of mine Quietly aggressive Lovingly possessive She calculates when to toe the line Jackson just started to first grade I’m sure he has more game plans made Like the rest Mom knows best His lunch is PBJ and marmalade Colin just finished his S.A.T. I’m sure he did better than me Sharp as a tack Knows how to rack The pool balls to break wimpily Derek made the junior varsity The “main man” he would seem to be. Fit to be tied, Praise not denied, He’s still that six foot little boy to me. Ryan—such a smart young man I teach him a card trick when I can He learned how to play Challenged me one day Skunked me then got up and ran Three dogs, alpaca and a kit Where in my family do they fit My pseudo grands By a daughter’s hands Who admires them more than a bit © 02 Dec 2010 Charles Henderson

Poem Details | by John Monteblanco |
Categories: lifeme, me,


Astrologists were wrong when they said I never show my emotions.
I've always been the outcast and the crybaby of the family but poetry is my devotion.
I don't care who knows or finds out about my secret love.
My emotions can't set me free from this cage like the whitest dove.
Should I keep going or stop my writing motion?

God was wrong when he sent me to be born on September Eleventh.
I'm nothing like a Virgo, please just call me an Amaranth.
War, love, and hate describe me on any given day.
When I look at her, the war ends and I'm tempted to stay.
In my mind I'm another ordinary kid that arrived the umpteenth.

Poem Details | by mike dailey |
Categories: faith, religionold, old,

God Said to Noah

God said to old Noah – “No sweat
Gather two of all creatures you’ve met
Cram them all in a boat
And keep it afloat
All others will get mighty wet”

So old Noah he built him a boat
And for 40 days kept it afloat
Though the details are few
It’s the tale of the crew
That makes this of Biblical note

For God had this grandiose plan
And with water he covered this land
When the boat came aground
Wickedness had been drowned
“Cept the family of this righteous man

So what is the moral of the story?
Though the world may be cold and gory
When it’s all said and done
It will be righteous ones
That will bask in God’s greater glory


Poem Details | by Sara Kendrick |
Categories: fear, feelings,

Shock Begins

The close family was all called in Four days since hubby to home had been The snooker hustler played High stakes for which he stayed In the door he came, our shock begins
Written: May 13, 2014

Poem Details | by Daljit Khankhana |
Categories: caregivingme, family, family, me,

My Mourn

What is possible? You don’t know, my family isn’t so liberal.
Religion has matter for us, doesn’t matter woman is ever feeble
Although God is one, we all are brother and sisters as I believe,
Whom do I felicitate? Why is forgiveness and mercy scribble?
My Caste is scurrile for me and my family lived with degrading,
Nobody delivered me delectation but I was grown up in trouble
Pain and misprisal is a part of our life dejection enjoyed delectation,
I depart my home only to hide defame for my children’s reflectible.
You shouldn’t understand me why is appreciation pride for us?
Honesty and trust is mourned for me and love isn’t a festival.

Poem Details | by Sidney Hall Mad Poet |
Categories: funny

Economic woes

Economic woes I dread
To feed my family I sold the toupe off my head
Went to the shop 
Where I fainted with shock
It costs two wheel barrows of money to buy a loaf of bread

Poem Details | by John Long |
Categories: art, family, food, time,


It is an important cake that I had to bake with out a rake so that it would be 
real   It has a special filling that the groom himself requested and has not been 
tested  a flavor that is also a favorite of mine no matter where I dine even with fine punch  It must not even come close to being dropped nor even flipped 

  It is a family specialty both with and with out the decorations with not one 
splotch not one drop of scotch although my watch seems to have been some 
how misplaced plus every step retraced although perhaps it’s in the van with the 
pans of sandy ham  maybe even on the can of Pam- wherever it is I can not put 
down the cake to look

 My book when last seen was next to the cake which was nowhere near the 
hooks my watch may have been there too when I was using my decorating tools 
with out boos but wherever my watch happens to be I am grateful I have not run 
into any yellow bees  I hope I am not late regardless of the fee because I have to 
make a delivery even if for free

 Well whatever the time even if I only get a few dimes and limes this is a 
special occasion   so this better be the right destination regardless of 
instantaneous regeneration of plants with out procrastination or any kind of 
hesitation despite some close calls that would make it   resemble the leaning 
tower of Italy here comes the wedding cake!

Poem Details | by Carolyn Devonshire |
Categories: funny, weddingme,

Open to Suggestion

Open to suggestion I’ve always been

Single gals were called as I sipped sloe gin

      Roses wilting in the heat

      Why did they land at MY feet?

Catching the bridal bouquet did me in

The garter was tossed high into the air

A swarm of men scrambled, I eyed the stairs

     I said, “Keep an open mind”

     The catcher was twenty-five!

Despite my age, he proposed then and there

He slid the garter quite far up my thigh

I didn’t realize; the booze made me high

     Sloe gin I’ll ne’er touch again

     ‘Cause I forgot to say, “When!”

And now I’m still getting calls from this guy

True story – caught the bouquet at my nephew’s wedding My nephew’s YOUNG friend 
caught the garter and proposed while my family broke out into laughter I later gave it back 
to him and told him that although “I’m Open to Suggestion,” I thought he deserved a 
younger bride
For Joe’s “In Other Words” contest.

Poem Details | by Molly Cooper |
Categories: funny


Wonder if they know…
 Just how hard my family works

 “Furlough Days” as they like to call it
 A cut in pay as we like to call it…..

Here nor there, there are lots of little quirks…..

Now the budgets in trouble again, let’s make them pay

And pay

And pay again! 

No more furloughs they said 
(As cheers roar through the crowd) “Whhoohoo”
We will just make them pay for their PEBB…..
That’s what we dread

Poem Details | by Mary Nagy |
Categories: adventure, childhood, funny, life,

His Trip To The Moon limerick

There once was a boy we called chase-face
he dreamed of reaching outer space.
With this dream in his heart
our family will part
and this boy we never could replace.

We all dreaded that day late in June
when we knew he would fly to the moon.
So a party we had
even though we were sad
as the countdown was scheduled for noon.

Chase couldn't get rid of the grin
or the drool that was right on his chin.
He was laughing so loud 
while we stood watching proud.
His journey would finally begin.

The trip was a total success.
Of course, we expected no less.
We've done all we can.
He now is a man
and all that he sees he will bless

Poem Details | by Steven Clark |
Categories: fun, funny,


A man believed all a fuddle
Began to bath in a puddle
Each day would begin
With him jumping in
His family to him they did scuttle

They gather close by in a huddle
Voices low he heard nothing but muddle
But still there he lay
Tis himself on display
His goal was but to befuddle

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: cat,


“Puurrristence” is the name of our old kitty-kat “No” is not in his vocabulary, fancy that Keeps pestering until He breaks your will He's known in our family as the aristocrat cat © Jack Ellison 2015

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: fun,

A Family Of Rolely Poleys

We're a great big family of roley poleys We'd sure make some great hockey goalies No pucks could get past Unless we fall on my ass Even then we'd be as tall as a telephone pole-y © Jack Ellison 2015

Poem Details | by Dorian Petersen Potter |
Categories: art, funny,


Botticelli-the pot-bellied artist For the Medici family was a great activist. His paintings rose him high. For his Venus you know why. He's been claimed such a great artist! Dorian Petersen Potter Aka ladydp2000 Copyright@2006 September.21.2014

Poem Details | by Sara Kendrick |
Categories: funny,

Sleeping Driver

There is a man who goes to sleep driving His family has a plot conniving They would buy him a tank That is so dark and dank He could sleep while others were surviving
Sponsor: Heather Ober Contest: Make Me Laugh Written this seventh day of July 2013

Poem Details | by Margeret Bailey |
Categories: childhood, imagination, science fiction,

Introducing the Benaminis: The Gypsies from afar

The Benaminis are a family of rodents,
who live their lives capitalizing on other
peoples' residences,
They scope the homes when they're not 
or invade it when only one member's alone,
They scamper up and down,
acting like confounded clowns,
going through closets and secret hiding places,
at the end of their visits , they carry satchels on their backs
filled with delicacies and knick-knacks,
The familes set traps of honey and cheese,
hoping they all will fall to their knees,
But they just keeping rambling and showing up at
the oddest times,
even when polluted with coffee grinds,
They run a muck, taking what they want,
Their sniveling looks seem to haunt,
making families edgy, and promoting dreams 
that taunt,
Oh, they give the children quite a scare,
by climbing everywhere,
They cover their bodies from head to toes,
for fear that the Benaminis grizzly hands may take them
out the windows,
The gypsies who traveled from "Nowhere",
have put enmity and nervousness everywhere,
helping themselves to life's delights,
only stopped with traps and horrible fights.

Poem Details | by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen |
Categories: funny


She was fat, not pregnant, to say the least.
She filled her plate at the family feast.
Craving pickles brought her down.
Howling laughter brought her frown.
Flatulence increased, festivities ceased!

© Dane Smith-Johnsen
October 16, 2010

Poem Details | by T Wignesan |
Categories: character, integrity, motivation, pride,

Limerick crochetes: Once Tamil Promotion Director

Limerick crochetés: Once Tamil Promotion Director

Once Tamil Promotion Director
Excised wise Japanese co-founder
Called him names like rogue thief
Set himself up as Chief
All Dravidian Tamil Editor

He posed as the Royal Ancestor
Even of the Chola* Emperor
Slave-drove workers in fief
Used savants make belief
Such the Tamil Highness Publisher

He caged talents the Money-Maker
Poised as Conference Organiser
Preyed on Buddhist belief
On Chan and Zen mischief
To lard his own family bunker

Ideas he plucked from the Other
Made as if he put up with bother
Tamils to lead as Chief
No matter what the grief
None see his pen as plagiariser

All helpers rough-rode he the Miser
Shed them shorn one after the other
Damn not this common thief
Just his penchant for Chief
For Tamil knowledge made he Server

[* The Chola dynasty (among other South-Indian reigns) of the 10th to 12th centuries C.Eextended Tamil culture and civilization over the better part of Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia without having recourse primarily to conquests and/or of maintaining colonies.]
© TWignesan - Paris, 2017

Poem Details | by Sara Chansarkar |
Categories: husband, marriage,

Friend or Foe

The man I married, so handsome and young
A drop of sweet sorbet on a parched tongue
I cooked his family traditional dessert one night
“Best I ever ate”, he said with so much delight
Words of praise, so generously he sung

His parents were to visit for lunch on Sunday
I decided to cook the same dessert that day
“Try something simpler, daughter”, his mother said
“Recipes like these, not for a girl newlywed”
Humiliated,sent kicks under the table his way.

Bigger thing is, friends, I will never know
if my eyes ever resembled that of a doe
if my skin was soft and smooth as satin
if my voice was musical like that of a robin
I wonder,did I marry a sweet friend or a foe

Written 06/15/2016

Categories: absence


There once was an 
old man named Zedd.
Whose family fed on 
dried bread.
When flour's cost 
got high,
he felt no real shy
to feed them with 
bread made of 

Poem Details | by john fedele |
Categories: confusion, courage, dark, day,

Why didn't they kill me

‘Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.’-Cormac McCarthy

Why didn't they kill me..
why am i still here...?
Being successful is my goal...
being flat broke, 
my biggest fear 

The pain is far to great to hide, laying awake and wide eyed
contemplating suicide,
what is my purpose? 
and if i stay alive, would it all be worth it? 
will I make something of myself? 
maybe i should just forfeit 

my one wish is to not have to worry
and to all those I've disappointed
I gave up, and I'm sorry

A strong man is what people think of me 
but deep down inside, a child i aim to be 
because you see, a child, so carefree
doesn't worry about the downsides to the world
only the fun things God lets them see....

please, one day, set me free
take me away from this hurt filled life that I lead, 
I plead and plead for someone to rescue me, 
but when I look in the mirror, what is it that I see? 
a broken down child, crying on both knees

This life gives no mercy, and only the strong survive,
how will my family the event of my demise? 
i pray no one cries for me, because i am in a better place, 
I've rid myself of the bitter pain, sadness and disgrace 

maybe if i get another chance, my demons i will face, 
but for now i walk through the valley of death
a sad, cold, and bitter place
Hoping after this valley 
ill see heavens smiles and grace,
but I fear that my mistakes 
will lead me to the devils face 
so many mistakes I can never erase 
You only get one chance,
so my advice is to seize the day.

I've tried...I've prayed and prayed, but the pain still wont go away
day after day, my life i want to take away...but even that I fail to do
so night after night I'll lay,
in bed awake but dreaming, of the day my pain goes away...

Poem Details | by Anna Hopper |
Categories: child,

The summer of change

This summer, different from any other
I watched two girls to help out their mother
My kids, a job and a half
My family shared a good laugh
As my quiet time, they knew, would smother

As always, I refused to listen
Their clear, blue eyes would glisten
Accepting the challenge
A work load benge
Now that their gone, I find myself missing

Before long, I learned, it was me
I was right where God wanted me to be
I helped a friend
Meet her ends
Helping myself unknowingly

An angel, disguised as a ten year old
Oh at the scenarios that would unfold
A precious punk
With fiery spunk
In my heart, she quickly strolled

She taught me things, my aged eyes couldn't see
Imagination, excitement, to her, came easily
With every pinch
I budged an inch
Before long, I was on a fun living spree

Poem Details | by Sue Mason |
Categories: animals, family, funny, baby,

Mister at the Dog Pound

There once was a dog born in July
With three brothers and a sister, oh my!

In five months he was taken to the pound
And there by a family with a baby was found.

Home they went, but within a month did know
That jealous of the baby the dog did grow.

So, back to the pound he was taken
But the little dog did not feel forsaken.

All his friends were waiting there
Oh my, he didn't have a care!

Brave and bored in a cage he sat
Staring across the room at a large yellow cat.

One day anoher two-legged being came by
To stare, and smile, and say with a cry:

"Look at that face.what a face!
Oh my, I want to take him home to my place!"

"What's his name?" she asked the clerk with a sigh.
"His name is Logan", the clerk did reply.

Logan?  Logan is a strange name to be,
He doesn't look like a Logan that I can see.

But he's certainly masculine, oh my
What a barrel chest and little head held high!

Such a face so strong and wise,
With those big limpid brown eyes.

He looks for all the world to see
Well. he looks like a, like a Mister to me!

So Mister the Dog found a home
Leaving his friends at the pound all alone.

Poem Details | by Elton Camp |
Categories: funny, cat,

The Furless Cat

The Furless Cat

By Elton Camp

Sue’s house was filled with cat hair	
To family it didn't seem fair	
So she had to get to the source		

Vacuumed the cat of course	
But when done, the poor cat was bare

Poem Details | by Jack Ellison |
Categories: silly,

A Family Of Roley Poleys

We're a great big family of roley poleys We'd sure make some great hockey goalies No pucks could get past Unless we fall on our ass Even then we'd be just as tall with no hole-ys

Poem Details | by Larry Belt |
Categories: funny

Drafty Fair Air

I just couldn't wait for the county fair
All of my family and friends were there
I stumbled and ripped my pants
Nothing but whistles and chants
I forgot to wear any underwear