The things I would do for Mom’s pie.
Her apple’s the best you could try,
With flavor so sweet,
A delectable treat.
When asked to get fruit, I comply.
—Doreen Graham of Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Of course, Doreen’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite limericks from our runners-up, in no particular order:
When bobbing for apples, it’s true,
My sister knows just what to do.
You’d think from the bubbles
She’s having some troubles,
But she’s practiced static apnea too.
—Finley Gray of Depew, New York
There once was a schoolgirl named Grace
Who decided to enter a race
To bob for a pippin
But came up a-drippin’
With water all over her face.
— Ronald Faoro of Cheshire, Connecticut
She immerses her face with a grin,
The apple bob she wants to win.
It might make her wish,
That she was a fish,
Endowed with some gills and a fin!
—Angie Gyetvai of Oldcastle, Ontario, Canada
There once was a tomboy named Lou
Who bobbed head-to-head in the brew.
Her bob was quite ruthless
And left her one tooth less.
So what do you think—should she sue?
—Terry Free of Andover, Minnesota
The apple bobbed temptingly there,
So she tied back her long braided hair.
She closed her eyes tight
And attempted to bite,
But she lost it and came up for air.
—Bill Kohler of Derby, Connecticut
A pretty young girl named Robin
Had a hungry old horse named Dobbin.
To give him a bite
On this Halloween night,
For Dobbin, Miss Robin went bobbin’.
—Robert Alexander of Chattanooga, Tennessee
The girl had a very strange way,
If asked, here is what she would say,
“I dunk in my head,
‘Cause my doctor said
I must eat an apple a day.”
—Lenna Wyatt of Scottsdale, Arizona
There once was a girl called Lucy
Who went bobbing for apples so juicy.
She’d plunge underneath,
Make grabs with her teeth,
But shouldn’t have in a jacuzzi.
—Tom Williams of Waterlooville, Hampshire, UK
It’s said that an apple a day
Keeps all of the doctors away.
So in order to thrive,
I’ll take that cold dive!
It’s healthcare the easiest way!
—Mary Starn of Orrville, Ohio
A lass, who dived in past her chin,
Bobbed for apples, pulling up more than 10!
“If I blow through my nose
And keep my eyes closed,
I don’t see the worms. Double win!”
—Cathy Hall of Lilburn, Georgia
Just heat up the milk in some water—
The least you can do for her daughter.
She’s gracing your scene
With a figure serene.
You’re gonna make more than you oughta.
—Joan Kelley, Tucson, Arizona
Congratulations to Joan Kelley! For her limerick describing George Hughes’ illustration (left), Joan 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, Joan’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite limericks from our runners-up, in no particular order:
Henry, the short order cook,
Liked doing things by the book.
So warming a bottle
For Mrs. McCottle
Would certainly get her the look.
—Philip Lindal, Yale, Michigan
The day at the beach was fun,
But it soon got hot in the sun.
The baby rode
While I pushed the load—
An hour and I was done.
—Audrey Jordan, Hope, Indiana
His face was filled with chagrin,
Noting the spot he was in.
She sat so demur,
But of this he was sure,
Heating bottles did not make him grin.
—Robert Webster, Port Charlotte, Florida
I’m warming this bottle for you,
Cute baby with eyes of true blue.
Your mom’s smokin’ hot,
Wedding ring she has not,
How I wish I was still 22!
—Lori Rucker, Brentwood, Tennessee
The man, while he looks with distain
At the woman who he thinks is vain,
Heats in his pot,
The milk, till its hot.
Will she order some food? She abstains.
—John Reuscher, Novato, California
The baby will have to be fed.
The vendor plays nursemaid instead
Of selling his wares;
He just stands and stares
And frowns as the lady turns red.
—Lillian Holmes, Troy, Ohio
A cook grilling franks, and a beauty,
Attended, each one, to their duty.
Though each job had a name,
The result was the same.
They both kept an eye on a cutie.
—Patrick McKeon, Pennington, New Jersey
The chef at the beach hot-dog stand
Did not relish giving a hand.
A coke she did buy,
But he gave a mean eye
Cause the milk bottle was underhand.
—Antoinette DeAngelis, Sharpsville, Pennsylvania
Warming a bottle, not food,
May seem an odd way to intrude.
But if the intrusion
Is a pretty illusion,
Consider a new attitude.
—Richard Arnold, West Hartford, Connecticut
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
His doctor of feminine gender
May offer a manner quite tender.
But why, he did muse,
Would she purposely choose
A field that is fraught with rear-enders.
—James Carpenter, Miami, Florida
Congratulations to James Carpenter! For his poem describing The Saturday Evening Post cover illustration by Roberto Parada, James wins $100—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, James’ limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite runners-up, in no particular order:
I’m going to convince my mind
That her diploma is properly signed.
‘Til then, if you please,
I’m keeping the breeze
From blowing across my behind.
—Marlene Klopp, Iowa City, Iowa
When seeing a doc or a nurse
For a shot or perhaps something worse,
First tend to essentials
And check their credentials.
Or you might end up in a hearse.
—Cornelius R. Jonker, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Our man George had a bit of a frown,
As he stood in his barely closed gown,
He checked the diploma,
Of young Doctor Roma,
He surely did miss old Doc Brown.
—Randy Imwalle, Hilliard, Ohio
A fine time for me to take stock
As to whether I picked the right doc
Now that she’s about
To check inside and out.
I hope I’m not in for a shock.
—Billy N. Davis, Milton, Florida
There once was a man called Bill
Had a doctor in old Melville.
But she was a fake
And sly as a snake,
She’d bought her “degree” from Goodwill.
—Tesa Aguilar, Tampa, Florida
There once was a company exec,
Who went for his annual check.
The procedure he got
In a sensitive spot
Was unlike a pain in the neck.
—Edward F. Haas, Rolla, Missouri
He thinks his exam should entail
A doctor whose gender is male.
The degree that he’s eyed
Shows Doc’s certified
To handle the rest of his … tale.
—Merlene R. Hill, Downey, California
He thinks that the doctor’s too young,
And can’t wait ‘til this torture’s all done.
Her knowledge is great,
But this medical date
Makes him just want to turn quick and run.
—Ruth Porter, Albany, Oregon
His pants weren’t just down; they were off
When he heard, “Please bend over and cough.”
He inquired, “For a shot?”
She replied, “No it’s not.”
He felt trapped like a bug in a trough.
—Ben Lightfoot, Hanston, Kansas
My businessman grandfather Max
Just didn’t know how to relax
Alas, it is true
I now do it, too—
With cell phone, computer, and fax!
—Julie Polak, Bucyrus, Ohio
The Saturday Evening Post staff is pleased to announce Julie Polak of Bucyrus, Ohio, our May/Jun 2012 Limerick Laughs Contest Winner! For her poem describing this illustration by James Williamson, Julie wins a cash prize—and our gratitude for a job well done. If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our Sep/Oct 2012 issue, you can submit your limerick via the entry form here. And now, without further ado, we present some of our favorite submissions from the runners-up:
There was a busboy named Kip
Who delivered the news in a zip.
While the old guy scans,
The young guy plans
What to do with his stock market tip.
—Tommy Stuckey, Castleberry, Alabama
The old man sat in the shade
Counting all the money he’d made.
While some stocks were hot,
Others were not,
So he figured out which ones to trade.
—Fred Niessen, Pleasant Valley, New York
I’m bored while I stand here and wait.
This man has a very strange trait.
He can’t run with the jocks,
So he trades in the stocks,
But he puts a good tip on my plate!
—Ruth Roberson, Midlothian, Virginia
He could have a life quite serene
If he just took a look at the scene.
His mind could be free
With so much to see,
But his money and stocks intervene.
—Chet Cutshall, Willowswick, Ohio
To escape from his job’s daily grind,
He’d been told leave business behind.
But the sunbathing scene,
He found quite obscene.
To join in the fun, he declined.
—Mary C. Ryan, Bradford, Pennsylvania
Instead of taking a dip,
He’s tending to stocks, all Blue Chip.
While others have fun
In sand and the sun,
And a bellhop waits for his tip.
—Neva Madsen, Los Gatos, California
—Dear, the boy’s been waiting all day.
Tip him, so that he won’t stay.
—I don’t have my wallet.
I’ll just have to stall it,
And hope he will be on his way.
—Charlotte Cline, Spokane, Washington
The bellhop has seen this before.
“Mr. Bucks” making dough at the shore.
While the others swim,
His bank vaults will brim.
“Bucks” pleasure is getting lots more.
—Richard Kistler, Reno, Nevada
A man with investments gigantic,
On vacation bought stock in a panic,
Kept out of the sun
‘Til business was done,
But his stock took a dive like titanic.
—Charles Parker, Escondido, California
I’ll certainly make you this bet:
The reason the man looks upset
Is the price of the chair,
Or at least its repair,
Will be sending him deep into debt.
—Neal Levin, Bloomfield Hills, MI
The Saturday Evening Post staff is pleased to announce Neal Levin of Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, our Mar/Apr 2012 Limerick Laughs Contest Winner! For his poem describing this John Falter picture, Neal wins a cash prize—and our gratitude for a job well done. If you’d like to enter the Limerick Laughs Contest for our Jul/Aug issue, you can submit your limerick via the entry form here. And now, without further ado, we present some of our favorite submissions from the runners-up:
There are rules when buying antiques:
Don’t trust any table that creaks.
If it’s ceramic or glass,
Take a look and then pass.
Don’t sit on an old chair that squeaks.
—Chet Cutshall, Willowick, OH
His goal was to impress her mom,
A role he pursued with aplomb.
But the chair where he sat,
Sent him down with a splat.
His performance was a total bomb.
—Jan Streilein, Aiken, SC
The broken chair might have been funny,
But Missus is shrieking, “Oh, Honey!
That chair’s an antique
And even looked weak—
It’s going to cost lots of money!”
—Merlene R Hill, Downey, CA
To browse and to look at antiques,
The couple went in the boutique.
He tried out a chair
And fell through the air—
His expression was something unique!
—Arthur Myers, Alameda, CA
The man saw a beautiful chair
And proceeded at once to sit there.
With a bang and a clatter
The chair it did shatter,
And stripped his poor dignity bare!
—Marian Kilmer, Versailles, MO
While shopping for chairs one fine day,
A man and his wife had to pay
The store owner Claire
For one broken chair.
Then she asked them to be on their way.
—Carol Haines, Plainwell, MI
As his wife shopped around in the store,
He thought to himself, What a bore.
He sat with a crash
In a chair that was trash,
And it wounded his pride to the core.
—Laura Donaldson, Mulberry Grove, IL
The antique shop had an old chair.
It was vintage and said to be rare.
‘Til a man with a smoke
Sat down and it broke.
The sale caught him quite unaware.
—Pat Keener, Maiden, NC
There was a young man without care
Who wanted a spindly chair.
But when he sat down
It fell to the ground,
Badly bruising his derriere.
—Wordia Vangilder, Pine Bluff, AR