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May/June 2013 Limerick Laughs Contest Winner and Runners-Up

In Issue:

boy on trapeze with doll
That girl in the pretty red dress
Is stuck in a terrible mess
Some nasty old boy
Has stolen her toy
No wonder she’s under such stress
—Neal Levin, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan


Congratulations to Neal Levin! For his poem describing the illustration at left by J.C. Leyendecker, Neal wins $25—and our gratitude for a job well done. If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our upcoming issue, you can submit your limerick via the entry form here.

Of course, Neal’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite runners-up, in no particular order:

Bobby’s swinging my dolly so high.
I’m afraid she might fall from the sky.
He offered me first,
But I feared the worst,
So I told him my dolly’s not shy.

—Rollin Keller, Lakewood, California

Jack does not impress me at all
By snatching my favorite doll.
His daredevil fling
Proves only one thing—
He’s just an obnoxious goofball.

—Lynnda Cruz, Las Vegas, Nevada

My brother—how daring is he?
I just can’t believe what I see!
My favorite doll—
I hope she won’t fall.
But I wish (how I wish) it was me …

—Doug Harris, Stockton-on-Tees, England

I once had a brother named Paul,
Who suddenly grabbed my best doll.
He swung her around
Barely missing the ground,
And I just couldn’t watch this at all.

—Maggie Govanucci, Monroeville, Pennsylvania

Big brother was such a great tease
When taunting Samantha with ease.
Little sis couldn’t look
When her dolly he took
A ride on the backyard trapeze.

—Jean Roeth, Springfield, Ohio

No matter how hard he tries,
My brother tells little white lies.
He said it would please her
If he could “trapeze” her.
I just hope my baby survives!

—Sheldon R. Mielke, Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin

I’m the kid on the flying trapeze.
Dolly rides as I swing by my knees.
Sis peeks through her fingers,
And though her fear lingers,
She knows I just do it to tease.

—Joy Smith, Burlington, Wisconsin

From nowhere he suddenly came,
A boy playing some kind of game.
He snatched up my dolly,
My favorite sweet Molly,
He still seems to suffer no shame.

—Marie Kreft, Arlington, Minnesota

She peeked through her fingers with hope
That her brother would stay on the rope.
For if he slipped from his seat,
To the floor he would leap,
And her doll would need more than just soap.

—Warren S. Patrick, Townshend, Vermont

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