When she gives a cough or a sneeze
Some wee trickles down past her knees
Her knickers are damp
She smells like a tramp
Dashing home so nobody sees
TITLE INSPIRED FROM A COMMENT BY ARTHUR VASO
28th March 2015
There once was a friend of mine,
Who was famed for making wine.
Her visits were great,
As she brought a crate -
But I lost a week each time.
For Francine's Bottle of Wine contest, written 17th June
When at home its often fast food I crave,
might even be leftovers that I saved,
always in a race,
open and shut case,
thank God for my nuke everything microwave!
There are people that imagine it never gets warm
Way up in Canada where cold weather's the norm
In July we unzip our fur-lined parkas
While carving away on a newly killed carcass
Then on to our dog sled through an another snowy storm
Our flag makes us proud no matter where we roam
Proud as beavers about this great land called home
A maple leaf is our symbol
An image so simple
Yet so meaningful in the hearts of all us gnomes
Persuade To Have Beautiful Home Made
What we wanted to do was persuade,
To have beautiful home being made;
In succulent shade near a pretty glade.
Once was a gal who felt so alone
Tornato came up rooted farms home
Landed on wicked witch
Munchkins came out of ditch
Gave dog lollypops instead of bone
A fisherman sat with line all lank
perched on crooked stool that soon sank
backside now all mud covered
his face an embarrassed red
off home he went with his pants all dank.
contest: limericks clean and clever
A glass of milk is something I fear
Please do not pour me a glass my dear
You'll be mad as a skunk
When I'm coming home drunk
But to tell you the truth I like beer.
There was an electrician from Nashes
Who worked in darts and dashes.
One day especially rushed
Against 240 volts he brushed.
Now Nashes is home to his ashes.
The old woman in the shoe scandal
who had those kids, too much to handle
Now that they are full grown
and she is home alone,
she'll down-size to a sandal.
O' me favorite sport must be drinkin.'
That's the way that God made me I'm thinkin.'
For it seems without fail,
If I start quaffin' ale,
That the landlord will send me home stinkin.'
There was a black beetle named May
Who lived with a frog in some hay
Together they would roam
Adventures far from home
Singing yippe-Ki-yay all day
It's two thirty, there's a knock at my door
Hey, it's my neighbour, what's he here for
"it's so plucky of you!"
Playing my Bagpipes the noo
If I wasn't, then what are you here for
Each morning without fail,
I see my little,brown-shelled snail,
Plodding along with his home on his back,
Leaving a long, tiny, silver track,
I think he likes blazing a trail.
Not all my hits are home runs,
many of them miss the bat;
specators respond with boos...
right there I expect to lose,
and getting angry, I toss my cap.
A musician resting in a spar,
Was playing his electric guitar,
An almighty spark
Plunged his home into dark,
He was left with a musical scar.
A hungover farmer went one day,
To a blacksmith's shop to buy some hay.
Well dear reader this isn't funny
For you see he had no money,
And so went home less vertebrae.
With precision we carved out the sand
here at home, down on your cursed land
We defy you to try
You will surely failWhy?
We used nothing that looks like your hand.
My little one is going to school
The joy on his face and mine is so cool
His first day is monday
I hope he will be okay
While I'm at home acting a fool
Decided I'd buy a new car
With some money I got from my Ma
So I found an MG
(always wanted one, see)
Now have to drive home from afar
The Sailors Itch
Beneath a bright Valentine’s Moon
He gave her the gift much too soon
now they’re itchin’ and scratchin’
with off spring a-hatchin’
Those crabs he brought home from Rangoon
That’s No Bull
There once was a man from the grange,
Who felt right at home on the range?
The doggies kept growing,
And cash flow kept flowing.
Now he’s listed on a stock exchange
A memory I'll NEVER forget, by crikey
Jackie stealing home, my hero almighty
Eleven at the time
Baseball's ultimate crime
Forever and always etched in my psyche
(With the old Montreal Royals of the International League in 1946)
These walls conceal an ugly war
Kitty litter raids my floor
This tidy home I'm sworn to keep
A rugged broom's a tiresome sweep
Three cats are such a chore