March/April 2019 Limerick Laughs Winners and Runners-Up
“Forget it!” his buddies told Fred.
“Not till I get one!” he said.
After hours of fishing
And hoping and wishing
All he caught was a cold in his head.
Congratulations to Joyce Petrichek of Finleyville, Pennsylvania! For her fishy limerick describing this August 31, 1946, cover illustration by Constantin Alajálov, she wins $25.
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 from this contest, in no particular order:
The weather grew chilly and wetter,
But that fisherman was a go-getter.
His friends, I was told,
Said it got cold:
The fish he hooked had on a sweater.
—Al Cross, Sacramento, California
Four friends in a boat made a bet
To catch a big fish in a net.
But after some hours
Of afternoon showers
All any of them did was get wet.
—Dara Linn, Cary, North Carolina
Despite the conditions, this die-hard
Holds tight and continues to try hard
While others, inclined
To a shove from behind,
Find the effort to merely stand by hard.
—Jeff Foster, San Francisco, California
He’s certain that he’s hooked a whale.
He’s stubborn; he’ll fight through a gale.
He digs in his heels,
He spins and he reels,
But all that he’ll catch is a tale.
—Rebekah Hoeft, Redford, Michigan
He had hoped for a most tasty dish,
The logical fisherman’s wish.
But ’twas something untoward
When he fell overboard.
You guessed right: He now sleeps with the fish.
—Brian Federico, Clyde, New York
Jim’s friends cried, “The way the wind’s blowin’ ya,
And we’ve got no umbrella to loan ya,
It might be your wish
To catch a nice fish
But we’re worried you’ll just catch pneumonia!”
—George Gillson, Brooklyn, NY
A group of old guys liked to boast
’Bout their annual trip to the coast.
But despite all their wishin’
They just bombed the fishin’.
’Twas the bar on the land they caught most!
—Dan Mitchum, Fishers, Indiana
A codger who’d earned recreation
Paid plenty to fish on vacation,
But downpour and night
Came with nary a bite
And a crew craving land and libation.
—Jen Stahl, Valparaiso, Indiana
I thought for a sec I heard thunder,
But he’s huge and it leads me to wonder
If they’ll think that I fibbed
Or grossly ad-libbed
How he doggone near dragged me down under.
—Skip Russell, Minnetonka, Minnesota
Featured image by Constantin Alajálov, ©SEPS
May/June 2018 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up
So now we all know where he goes
When Santa seeks summer repose.
He trades in his sleigh
For artist’s beret
And paints with the grass ’neath his toes.
Congratulations to Michelle Gordon-Weedon of Airway Heights, Washington! For her limerick describing J.C. Leyendecker’s cover illustration for the May 26, 1934, issue of the Post, she 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.
In no particular order, here are some of our other favorite entries to this limerick contest:
Said an elderly artist named Will,
“Painting nature is quite a big thrill.
The poses won’t last,
So I have to work fast
’Cause hummingbirds cannot sit still!”—Roger Blush, Irvine, California
My questions, I hope, won’t cause strife.
Is he ignoring the cute wildlife?
Is his nose red from drink?
And that sweater of pink …
Does it really belong to his wife?—Brian Federico, Clyde, New York
The animals witnessed that summer
A bearded and red-bereted plumber
Who sat at his easel
And painted a weasel
So perfectly — number by number.—Denis Feehan, Mesquite, Nevada
With butterflies, bluebird and doe,
Two bunnies complete our tableau.
Idyllic? You bet!
However, I get
Art critics wherever I go.—Steve Johnston, Peoria, Arizona
Well, this dwarf had the right to be mopey.
He again lost a film part to Dopey.
So he shed just one tear
As he cut off his ear.
You might know him: His name is Van-Gogh-pey.—Jennifer Klein, Jericho, New York
The painter applied his paint thick.
His brushwork was skillful and quick.
When the painting was done
He amazed everyone.
With a chuckle, he signed it “Saint Nick.”—Roy Skibiski, Lawndale, California
As the animals gather and stare,
He is sitting composed in his chair.
He is painting with ease
And enjoying the breeze,
But his painting is off by a hare.—Ryan Tilley, Altamonte Springs, Florida
As the animals gradually got bolder,
Painter’s temper had started to smolder.
He finally confided,
“I just can’t abide it —
You lot looking over my shoulder!”—Lisa Timpf, Simcoe, Ontario, Canada
For a masterpiece, Painter did strive.
The meadow, it seemed, came alive.
But the doe and the jay,
Concerned about pay,
Wanted time and a half after five.—Jon VanGutman, Olivehurst, California