Mom looked at her cute little elf
And saw fruit rolling off of the shelf.
You surely can bet
That mom did regret
Telling him to go get it himself.
Congratulations to Angie Gyetvai of Oldcastle, Ontario, who won $25 for her limerick describing this Stevan Dohanos cover image from our September 19, 1953, issue.
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 more great limerick entries from this contest, in no particular order:
A tot thought an orange would be great.
It’s been half an hour since he ate.
He wanted just one,
But when he was done
He found that he had twenty-eight.—Tom Lea, Jim Falls, Wisconsin
“Don’t play with your food,” people claim
Is a guideline deserving of fame.
Yet to play is an art,
So just follow your heart,
Although Jenga ought not be the game.—Gennadiy Gurariy, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
To be perfectly fair and objective,
Let us put things in proper perspective:
This fruit-craving shaver
Is no misbehaver,
It’s just that he’s highly selective.—Jeff Foster, San Francisco, California
No mishap, this fruit on the floor.
A distraction it was meant for.
’Cause just out of frame
Was this boy’s real aim:
His sis stealing sweets from the store.—Jim Coplen, Greenwood, Indiana
Despite the greengrocer’s demands,
Bob’s mother gave no reprimands.
“Look! Isn’t that cute?
He’s sorting the fruit!
We’ll just purchase the one in his hands.”—Lisa Timpf, Simcoe, Ontario
Good morning, and welcome to Gino’s!
Any question ’bout fruit? You bet he knows!
When you come here to learn,
He don’t ask in return
Except please, ladies, curb your bambinos!—Marcia Gunnett Woodard, Swayzee, Indiana
That young boy (and I’ll bet you a dime)
Is a poet, who’s biding his time.
As he stares at that fruit,
He intends to refute
That for “orange” we don’t have a rhyme.—Rudy Landesman, New York City, New York
He wanted to help with the shopping,
But the young boy was better at dropping.
“You’re sweet to assist,
But, as mom, I insist,
The best way to help is by stopping.”—Scott Talbot Evans, Rochester, New York
When the customer (one of those naggers),
Asked the fruit man, at whom she’d stared daggers,
“Just who is that child
You’re letting go wild?”
He said, “Henry. He’s one of my baggers.”—Sjaan VandenBroeder, Stockton, California
While Ma settled up with the grocer,
She protested, “Pinch them? Why, no, sir!
I give them a squeeze
To see if they’ll please,
But Bubba examines them closer!”—Victoria Everitt, Spring Lake, Michigan
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