That he planned his funeral is factual
And being a prankster quite actual
He prerecorded his voice
So when we kneeled on the joist
He said, "Hi there! Don't I look natural."
While a man was golfing in Fife
a funeral cortege was arife,
his head bowed in prayer
at this somber affair
to pay last respects to his wife!
There was an old lady from Ireland
Who was frightened to death by a brass band
We watched with dismay
As without delay
They buried her corpse in the band stand
Contest : Slapstick Limerick Contest
It's goodbye to mad Frankie Fraser
The East Ends gangster appraiser
So loyal to the Kray's
To his very last day
One the Sixties ultimate erasures
There was an old man from Fontaine
Who walked with aid of a cane
One night he was mugged
By a wannabe thug
In the graveyard, the thug was lain
11 April 2018
For the contest sponsored by Viv Wigley
This Club Med lagoon really holds the heat,
with a beach front view and a coral suite.
But the best of all
as we watch it fall
is how they serve up each meal on a sheet!
I had a boss who thought he was it
He was an Egotistical Twit
When he passed away
On funeral day
Only two people showed and that’s it
There was a man named Freddie
he'd beat is wife ever steady
a self centered drunk
he was a scum and a skunk
the judge made sure his cell was ready
A sub human waste dump named Pence
Has thoughts that defy common sense
And who wants this chump?
The assinine Trump
Who thinks with his rump so immense
What is something uproarious?
Her plan to be victorious
Who must to us speak
Since democracy’s Greek?
Boot Hill is filled with remorse
From folks who could not stay the course
But a lot could be worse
Than a ride in an hearse
For a cowboy who ain't got no horse!
a cocky young shooter called Bill
believed no one could rival his skill
alas it was liquor
that proved to be quicker
as they loaded him off to boot hill.
One thing said about politicians
They can gather money like morticians
Who bring dead for burial
That go to meet Gabriel
While politicians greet contributions
There was a sweet girl of pure glass.
Met a merry man with no class.
She’d shattered this bloke.
He drank til she broke.
Both attended funeral mass.
To weddings Ann went alone perplexed
Her love life her aunties favorite subject
So she turned a bit juvenile
At a great uncles funeral
And exclaimed to the Aunties “you’re next” !
On A Funeral Bier
Death my body did devour
As it occurred hour by hour,
End eventually would reach
When to God I now beseech
While lying on a funeral bier.
You should google funeral
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Don't know who designed the Golden Arches
With way too many sugars and starches:
Some say the fare's quite good,
Others think it's junk food--
Yet no protest or funeral marches!
Jack came to the strangest conclusion,
which was: Time's an illusion.
He turned up very late
to each appointment and date
till the day of his very own funeral.
There a premodern smile does emerge
From a hymn and a funeral dirge
For it e’er hails the skies
With its wise stony eyes
Knowing heaven and earth soon must merge
There was a man who never shed a tear
The time he lived was many a year
So sad he never knew
What the tears would be due
Now at rest he lies and nobody here
Notre Dame erupted in fire
Ghosts gasped in the funeral pyre
For the Devil's horns
Are the Crown of Thorns
Held fast by an angelic choir
McCain and Fine Funeral
McCain's funeral service in over and done,
After great address by daughere the one,
With much emotion;
Love and devotion;
Duty and responsibility had fallen upon.
When writing poetry, humour wins hands down
But not at a funeral, causes lotsa nasty frowns
So be careful what you choose
Like purple ballet shoes
And being dressed in a pretty pink gown
You should see suit that Trump wore
It was actually made by a whore
As can be sure was certainly tight
Which is way he ends up every night
Must be big bed bugs that him do bite.
I went to the morgue with a wreath
They told me she's down on the heath
My troublesome mask
Just ruined my task
Wreath in hand, I tossed down my teeth!
Do stop your moaning, for Heaven's Sake!
You're not the first to bellyache!
You can scowl, growl, or howl
Or throw in the towel
But no one can go to your Wake!