July/August 2016 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up

Billboard painters keeping cool in summer heat
It feels like a hundred and three!
And we’re both just as parched as can be.
We’re panting and moaning,
Perspiring and groaning…
So why are we drinking hot tea?

Congratulations to Guy Pietrobono of Washingtonville, New York! For his outstanding limerick, he wins $25 and our gratitude for this funny and entertaining poem describing Billboard Painters (above) by Stevan Dohanos. You can enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our next issue of The Saturday Evening Post through our online entry form.

Guy’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked. In nor particular order, here are some of our other favorite contest entries:

When the heat is uncompromising
And the work is ever-perspiring.
With the drink that you pour,
It is hard to ignore
That there’s truth in some advertising.

—S. Pavelich, Grand Blanc, Michigan

Two painters named Willy and Fred,
Rode up in a truck that was red.
Old Fred should have learnt
That his head would get burnt
If his hat was not up on his head.

—Tom Glatting, Chillicothe, Ohio

“Imagine us both in the shade
Sipping GALLONS of pink lemonade …”
“Imagine instead
That we’re working here, Fred,
‘Cause on Friday I’d like to get paid!

—Guy Pietrobono, Washingtonville, New York

I’m thinkin’ that drinkin’ this potion
Might make me go weak with emotion.
Up here on this deck,
It’s hotter than heck.
A refill? You’ll have my devotion.

—Rebekah Hoeft, Redford, Michigan

The sign was for selling AC.
One painter explained it to me:
AC really cools
By transferring joules.
And a jewel of a painter was he.

—Phillip T. Ross, Indianapolis, Indiana

Think back, now, to winter’s big chill,
And the snowball you rolled down the hill.
This heat wave won’t last,
It soon will be past,
And then you’ll miss summer, you will!

—Grace Bates, Ft. Wayne, Indiana

It’s hotter than what it reads there,
And that big fan ain’t blowin’ cool air.
It sure would be nice
To sit on the ice
And pretend to be Big Papa Bear!

—Dolores M. Sahelian, Mission Viejo, California

Of all the unfortunate luck,
Hot weather had actually struck.
Poor Robert and Casey!
If only the AC
Was working inside their own truck.

—Neal Levin, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan

Outdoor work that is done in the sun
Isn’t close to a job you’d call fun.
When the heat is so cruel,
Try to keep yourself cool
So not you, but the sign, is well done.

—Thomas Eveslage, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Sept/Oct 2014 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up

Witches riding broomsticks in the night sky surrounded by bats

I asked on her annual all-nighter
Did the moon glow make Halloween brighter?
She gave nary a blink,
But with one naughty wink,
Said, “Moonshine makes broomsticks much lighter.”

—Terry Free, Andover, Minnesota

Congratulations to Terry Free! For her limerick describing Eugene Iverd’s illustration Witches’ Night Out (above), Terry wins $25 — and our gratitude for a job well done. If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our upcoming issue, submit your limerick via our online entry form.

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

There once was a witch named Min
Who owned an unfortunate chin.
And, to add to her woes,
Just look at her nose!
It seems the poor thing just can’t win!

—Betty Checkett, St. Louis, Missouri

October above Cincinnati:
A witch who’s a little bit catty
Is stuck in a jam.
She believes it’s a scam,
And it’s certainly driving her batty.

—Neal Levin, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan

That witch is one scary sight
As she flies on her broom through the night.
Small children decide
That it’s safer inside
As they cover their heads in their fright.

—Pat Chambers, Atlantic Beach, North Carolina

Brunhilda, the witch, and her broom
Through gloomy dark nights they would zoom.
A bat got in the way
To Brunhilda’s dismay;
They crashed with a real loud KABOOM.

—William MacQuarrie, Omaha, Nebraska

The wicked old witch of the East
By moonlight seeks out a great feast.
She dines on dead lizards.
Seeks out bloody gizzards,
And sweets is what she likes the least.

—John Meyer, LaJolla, California

The sickening things that were seen
In the sky made me turn yellow-green.
When the goblins and witches
Caused tremors and twitches,
I knew it must be Halloween.

—Ronald Faoro, Cheshire, Connecticut

At the sight of this black magic shower,
I crawled under my bed and did cower.
Were they looking for souls
To drag into dark holes?
Or was it the witches’ rush hour?

—Patrick McKeon, Pennington, New Jersey

Miss Grizelda and all of her crones
Were preparing to rattle some bones,
But their plans went awry
When, out of the sky,
Came a pack of mysterious drones!

—Vivian Barrington, Jasper, Texas

Air traffic is busy tonight
and advancing takes all of my might!
With no zip or zoom
just a wobbly old broom,
a plane might be better for flight!

—Dolores M. Sahelian, Mission Viejo, California

In spite of their usual contentions,
The witches show up at conventions.
They must be there soon
By the light of the moon.
Their union is asking for pensions.

—Rosemary Lombard, Hillsboro, Oregon