Flowers and candy and such
Are such a magnanimous touch.
Your look is quite spiffy;
Your ears, though, are iffy;
Writing “nibble me” is simply too much!
Congratulations to Lorraine Ray of Aiken, South Carolina! She wins $25 for her fun limerick describing this Frances Tipton Hunter illustration.
If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our upcoming issue, submit your limerick via our online entry form.
Here are some of our other favorite entries to this limerick contest, in no particular order:
He couldn’t have dressed himself faster,
With candy and blooms for dear Aster.
He was ready to go
Till his mother said, “Whoa!
Your neck is a filthy disaster!”
—Mike Sherer, Waverly, Iowa
Mom attaches his prosthetic ears
And knuckles away bitter tears.
It’s taken too long
For her boy to belong.
Now if the special glue just adheres!
—Wendy Hyrkas, De Pere, Wisconsin
Danny endured his mother’s attention,
And thought romance a harebrained invention.
She yapped in his ear,
“Have I made myself clear?
Women look for a man with a pension.”
—Andrea Hunter, Saint Charles, Illinois
Knowing mom would, of course, intervene
Before Dickie’s first date with Colleen,
He erased all her fears:
On the backs of his ears
He had written in marker, “all clean!”
—Brendan Powers, Fort Myers, Florida
To her will he is willing to tend,
So he’ll see it pay off in the end,
For in 20 years’ time
He will launch his own line
Of bold beauty care products for men!
—Brian Federico, Clyde, New York
The primping to which you’re entrusted
Is a hardship to which you’ve adjusted.
You look sharp — spic and span —
Until Mom makes a scan
Of the back of your ears, and you’re busted!
—Jeff Foster, San Francisco, California
I can see you have beans in your ears.
I’ve been telling you not to for years.
They’ve got to come out —
They’re beginning to sprout,
And chili will flow in your tears.
—Carol Baker, Lansing, Michigan
’Tis date one with gal-o’-my affections;
Go I armed with bouquet ’n’ confections.
Our future seems bright,
If it only I might,
Get past Mom ’n’ all of her inspections!
—Jeffrey Folkens, Cincinnati, Ohio
He stood there with roses and candy
For his date, the magnificent Mandy,
But Mom dug in his ear
And cried, “Goodness, my dear,
In this dirt you could plant some leylandii!”
—Michelle Christophorou, Guildford, Surrey, England
Featured image: SEPS
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Comments
I’ve been frustrated in my efforts to read the winning limerick and runners-up for July-August. There’s some kind of glitch that stops the page from loading. I’m dying of suspense! Hopefully, you know already and are working on it? Thanks.
I wrote one of the limericks you’re disdainful of. I enter many times. When you enter many times, you have to stretch your imagination to come up with unique perspectives. Some of them are meant to be humorous. Frankly, I didn’t think some of my quirkier ones had a chance. I’m proud of the Post for being open-minded enough to pick one of them.
I’m confused as to what you are looking for in Limerick Laughs. The May/June picture clearly shows a young boy dressed for a date, possibly his first, and holding flowers and candy. His Mother is doing a last minute inspection of the back of his ears. Your winner, and one other writer decided the boy has written something on the back of his ears. Perhaps that is a cute idea, but the last time I tried it, it wasn’t very easy to do. One writer came up with the absurd idea of prosthetic ears being glued in place, and one thought the mother was talking to the son about needing a pension. One ignored everything in the picture and decided what the boy was going to do in 20 years, and one thought the picture was about beans in the ears. Only 4 of the 10 winners actually wrote a limerick about the picture as I have described it and, I believe, 99% of the people would see it.
My question is, are you looking for the most unbelievable thoughts that a writer can come up with, regardless of how, or whether, it relates to the picture? My submissions were similar to the 4 writers who followed the things shown in the picture, but I think I should have written a limerick about a cat traveling to the moon recalling its young master who had to have his mother screw his ears onto his head.