Sept/Oct 2014 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up
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
May/June 2014 Limerick Laugh Winner and Runners-up
His well-bred gentility sold her,
But then he began to get bolder.
So our cool-headed Midge
Put the flower in the fridge
After giving her date the cold shoulder.
—Jeanne Kaufman, Boulder, Colorado
Congratulations to Jeanne Kaufman! For her limerick describing M. Coburn “Coby” Whitmore’s illustration Prom Memento (above), Jeanne 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, Jeanne’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite limericks from our runners-up, in no particular order:
With a touch, the door echoes her sigh,
And the scent of romance dances by
From the small space reserved,
Where her dreams are preserved,
Tucked between last night’s roast and the pie.
— Carrie Clickard, Gainesville, Michigan
She hummed to herself the prom ballad.
Her wish to preserve it was valid.
But her piece of the past
Wasn’t destined to last;
Her grandma mixed it in the salad.
— Patrick McKeon, Pennington, New Jersey
The prom was all right, I suppose.
For dinner he took me to Joe’s.
This Patty McDougal
Was way beyond frugal.
For dessert he suggested my rose.
— Andrew Janik, Hadley, New York
The evening has come to a close.
It’s here I am saving my rose
And thinking of Hughes
With humongous shoes—
Oh, let there be ice for my toes!
— Georgia Suprenant, St. Anne, Illinois
The gala was really quite splendid!
But now that the evening has ended,
I’ll save the corsage,
To be an homage,
For I hope he’ll become my intended!
— Karen Mueller, Oak Harbor, Washington
After dancing all through the night,
She’s reminded in limited light,
Though her tootsies are weary,
Her date was a dearie,
His choice of a flower just right!
— Larry Mann, Danville, Virginia
It’s 1:25. I’m awake
And searching for something to bake.
Hugh left me a flower
But come on, at this hour?
I don’t want romance — I want cake.
— Samuel Zifchak, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
She stores her corsage from prom night
And knows one day at its sight,
She will reminisce
The night’s front porch kiss,
Cut short when dad turned on the light!
— Angie Gyetvai, Oldcastle, Ontario, Canada
To remember this night’s celebration,
I’ll hold onto this lovely carnation.
And hope it will last
As a memory past
With the help of some refrigeration.
— Steve Pavelich, Grand Blanc, Michigan
The night at the prom was pure bliss,
Including the thrill of first kiss.
The gardenia shall wilt.
The boyfriend will jilt.
But right now “oh the joy” for this miss.
— Sally Havens, Dublin, Ohio
March/April 2014 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up
There once was a rooster named Sunny
In love with a young hen named Honey.
Pink, yellow, and blue
Her eggs were a clue
She’s more than just friends with the Bunny.
—Jane Yunker, St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin
Congratulations to Jane Yunker! For her limerick describing Kenneth Stuart’s illustration (above), Jane 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, Jane’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite limericks from our runners-up, in no particular order:
She’s obviously proud of her layin’
Old Rudy’s concern he’s displayin’
But back in the coop
The girls know the scoop.
And who is the Dad they’re not sayin’
—Steve Boneske, Greenfield, New York
Said Rooster to his own dismay:
“Not my hens, such eggs, no way!
There’s but one cock so bold
To make me cluckhold;
That rascal they call Fabergé!”
—William D. Conrad, Vancouver, Washington
They couldn’t tell who was who,
Each egg was a different hue.
Though the hen smiled,
The rooster was riled.
Oh what a ‘fowl’ thing to do!
Louis DiSanto, St. Paul, Minnesota
The rooster who crowed to his honey
Was alarmed when their eggs turned out funny,
He screeched to his hen
“We’ll try it again,
“After donating this batch to the Bunny.”
—Terry Free, Andover, Minnesota
When he looked down, the rooster recoiled
As his plans for a family were spoiled.
While the eggs all looked good
He gave up fatherhood
When he saw that his kids were hardboiled.
—John Peacock, West Dundee, Illinois
Alas, my curiosity begs.
What have you done to those eggs?
The last I knew
My blood line was blue.
Could they have walked in without legs?
—Andrew Janik, Hadley, New York
The hen liked her colored eggs best,
Having left the plain ones in the nest.
But the haughty old rooster,
No Easter egg booster,
Told her to go sit on the rest.
—Ben Lightfoot, Hanston, Kansas
Of all the ridiculous things!
My poor decorated offsprings.
When hatched from the eggs,
They’ll have stems for legs,
And petals all over their wings!
—Angie Gyetvai, Oldcastle, Ontario
This new batch of eggs that we’ve gotten?
I’m feeling like something is rotten.
You’re trying to hide
Some tail on the side,
A tail that (I’m betting) is cotton.
—Jim Schweitzer, Elkhorn, Wisconsin
January/February 2014 Limerick Laughs Winner and Runners-Up
I’ve been shovelin’ this sidewalk for hours,
And it’s quite nearly robbed all me powers.
But the toil’s not the reason,
Tis all of the sneezin’.
You see’s, I’m allergic to flowers.
—John Eggerton, Springfield, Virginia
Of course, John’s limerick wasn’t the only one we liked! Here are some of our favorite limericks from our runners-up, in no particular order:
A florist named Tropical Joe
Was weary of shoveling snow.
His balmy green thumb
Froze up and turned numb,
And resentment was all he could grow.
—Michelle Barnes, Gainesville, Florida
My job as a sweeper is tough;
I really have had quite enough.
I surely am through,
Because all I do
Is heave around forkfuls of fluff.
—David Warren, Lake Oswego, Oregon
It’s hard to clean up snow,
You can’t use a rake or a hoe.
A shovel is best
When put to the test,
Until the wind starts-in to blow.
—Cathy Fleming, Coal City, Illinois
This cold weather gives me the blues.
It freezes my gloves and my shoes.
I shovel this stuff,
But I’ve had enough—
Next winter I’m booking a cruise!
—Mary Starn, Orrville, Ohio
Forecasters do have a knack
For inches of snow keeping track.
Some think it’s pretty.
But for those in the city,
The snow is a pain in the back.
—Tim Cannon, Osceola, Iowa
Although I don’t mean to be picky,
This weather’s incredibly icky.
Too bad there’s a guard in
the front of that garden.
Now getting inside will be tricky.
—Neal Levin, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan
There was an old fellow named Cox,
Who spent his life shoveling rocks.
Said he got his powers
From sniffing the flowers;
He was a delightful old fox.
—Bill Jones, Johnstown, Pennsylvania
The shop called the Tropical Bloom
Is filled with a floral perfume
That’s cheerful and gracious,
A delightful oasis,
From winter’s unstoppable gloom.
—Buffy Silverman, Augusta, Michigan
It is not really quite apropos
That the flower men must shovel snow.
But they must sell their posies
If it means frozen toesies,
Since the bank account’s running so low.
—Patrick McKeon, Pennington, New Jersey
There once was a shoveler named Ray,
A situation he thought gross and gray.
He hated ice slush
Like so much dead mush,
So he hopped the next flight to L.A.
—Terry Free, Andover, Minnesota
Oh me, oh my, what a mess.
This will certainly be a test
For two men with shovels
To be quick on the double,
So ladies will not be distressed.
—Judy Shannon, Huntsville, Missouri