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May 12 is National Limerick Day in the United States, corresponding to Limerick-writer Edward Lear’s birthday. Poet James A. Tweedie invites you to share your limerick or limericks in the comments section below. Here are a few from his book Laughing Matters to get you started.

See “How to Write a Limerick” here.

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There once was a woman of Perth
Whose eating expanded her girth.
_Till sooner than later
_Her waistline equator
Took on the same shape as the earth.

.

There once was a woman from Seoul
Who went on an afternoon stroll.
_With broad-minded latitude
_And laissez faire attitude
She ended up at the North Pole.

.

A jungle explorer named Peter
Came face to face with a man-eater.
_He ran all the way
_To New Delhi that day.
The tiger was fast, but he beat her.

.

A man had a pet kangaroo
Whose feet took a size 30 shoe.
_He looked all around
_Till on Ebay he found
Some sneakers his size in Peru.

.

A Captain, verbose and pedantic,
While sailing one day became frantic.
_The weather was warm
_But he talked up a storm,
And was blown clear across the Atlantic.

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79 Responses

  1. jd

    There was an old writer named Willy
    Who thought that believers were silly
    He got out his pen
    And misguided ken
    And torched the wrong thing willy-nilly

    I’ve thought long and hard ‘bout his motives
    In fields or housebound with my votives
    His plan all along
    Was to publish his song,
    “The Trash What’s Revered Locomotive”

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      J.D. Thanks for being brave enough to jump in with the first limericks! Willy nilly or not, I’d love to here a recording of the Rev’s song! lol

      Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Krik, I don’t think I even know how to spell the word “harliquin” (or “harlaquin” or whatever.). Thanks for the limerick and the correct spelling (I think . . . I need to look it up to be sure . . .”

      Reply
  3. Roy Eugene Peterson

    A clown who once thought he could fling
    His cape and bulls follow the swing.
    Hit the Matador
    And we watched him soar
    Out of the small Spanish bull ring.

    A farm boy whose name was Blake
    A treat he wanted to make.
    He tickled the cow
    And that is how
    He made a tasty milkshake.

    A man was from Lima, Peru,
    Once climbed up on Machu Pichu.
    He searched all around,
    But no gold was found.
    His llama deserted him, too.

    A cowboy took off his red shirt
    For a girl he wanted to flirt.
    A bull saw the flag
    And thought it meant tag.
    He still can’t sit down where it hurt.

    A boater decided to take
    His new boat out on the big lake.
    As he headed for shore
    He was done for.
    He did not know where was the brake.

    Reply
  4. Roy Eugene Peterson

    James, I saw your title, “Laughing Matters.” What a great double entendre!

    Reply
  5. Mark Stellinga

    Poetry Wasn’t Enough

    Remember how Daffodil Finnigan
    Swore she would never begin-again
    Loving a man,
    So she constantly ran
    From men – so’s not to fall-in-again!

    Well… into her life walked a poet,
    Who dug her, and – meaning to show it –
    But easy-to-hate –
    (And weigh over-wait) –
    To bolster his chance to not blow it –

    Plied her with poetry – sending his best –
    Some very poignant – others in jest –
    He wooed her with verse –
    ‘Til she deemed him a curse –
    Then she sued him — for being a pest!

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Mark, I love the clever rhymes in the first and the “weigh over-wait” in the second. Clever.

      Reply
  6. Roy Eugene Peterson

    A rioter had his own scheme.
    He’d blow up an AT machine.
    He set it to start,
    But it blew him apart.
    And that was the end of his dream.

    In Canada protesters met.
    Over what they seemed to forget.
    The sign the guy had
    Showed why he was mad.
    It read, “I’m a little upset.”

    Some protesters looked to score.
    They looted their own local store.
    They grabbed what they could.
    They thought it was good
    Shopping for school in Baltimore.

    The protester that they did hire,
    Shouted obscene things that were dire.
    He sloshed the gas round
    The flag on the ground,
    But he lit his own pants on fire.

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Roy, Both funny and sad re your reference to “Shopping for school in Baltimore,” seeing as the reading and math scores in both their elementary and high schools are among the lowest in the nation. From a recent article, “. . . ninety-three percent of children third through eighth grade tested below grade level in math and of the 150 schools in the city, 23 did not have a single student who tested at grade level in math.”

      Reply
  7. Joseph S. Salemi

    We now have a pontiff named Leo —
    And praise comes allegro con brio.
    But if this guy advances
    The causes of Francis
    We’ll all groan and cry “Dio mio!”

    Reply
      • James A. Tweedie

        She sees the Holy See seize the sea’s scene. Or is it the Holy See-Saw? We shall see. (Coincidentally, I have a grandson named Leo. But he’s only the Ist, not the XIVth)

    • jd

      I couldn’t agree with you more,
      But let’s wait and see what’s in store.
      With the help of God’s grace,
      Multiple prayers embraced,
      He could find and promote what he didn’t before.

      Reply
  8. Paul A. Freeman

    My last limerick posted on the SCP didn’t go down too well, so I’ll keep the political ones tame:

    Home Sweet Home Limerick

    A skirting board hole for a mouse;
    a snug human scalp for a louse.
    And snails on the ground
    that wander around?
    The shell on their back is their house.

    Snail Life Limerick

    “My bachelor pad’s living hell,”
    the snail remarked of his shell.
    “It’s cramped and its slimy,
    it’s sweltering, and blimey,
    the worst of it all is the smell.”

    Limerick on a Grecian Urn

    Examine this vase! You’ll get peeks
    of life in the time of the Greeks.
    See love’s age-old battle,
    view sacrificed cattle –
    of Truth and of Beauty it speaks.

    Buying Greenland Limerick 3

    The Greenlanders wolfed down free nosh
    and listened to Junior’s tosh.
    And sweetening the deal
    of red hat and meal,
    is Elon, with oodles of dosh.

    Undone – a Limerick

    One summer I thought it was fun
    to go to the beach for some sun.
    But then I got scared,
    for everyone stared –
    till I noticed my fly was undone.

    Information Sharing Limerick

    The President’s number one fans,
    impose informational bans.
    And yet they seem frantic
    to tell ‘The Atlantic’
    America’s top-secret plans.

    Planet Earth Limerick

    The Earth is a magical place,
    a Goldilocks planet in space.
    Her flora and fauna
    fill every corner,
    despite Man despoiling her face.

    Rory McIlroy Wins at Augusta Limerick

    Eleven long years it had been,
    No win at Augusta was seen;
    And though this golf fogie
    Sank many a bogey,
    His jacket still ended up green.

    The French Disconnection

    All France is upset with the flak
    Trump gives them – they think he’s off track.
    And due to their ire,
    the Frenchies desire
    the Statue of Liberty back.

    Happy National Limerick Day!

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      All clever, Paul. I loved your idiomatic use of “blimey” but liked the undone fly, the “top secret plans” and the French Disconnection best (although I also join in your celebratory nod to McIlroy’s victory at Augusta).

      Reply
  9. Gigi Ryan

    The once was a fella named Tony
    Whose favorite food was bologna.
    He at it at lunch
    And sometimes at brunch
    Until his digestion got moany.

    The once was a kitten name Clyde
    Who lived in a small double wide.
    He ate tuna and rice
    And massacred mice,
    Which he gave to his owner with pride.

    There once was a pink ballerina
    Who danced to a Bach sonatina.
    She fell off the stage –
    Oh, was it her age?
    No, likely that large margarita.

    There once was a toddler named Owen
    Who wasn’t aware he was goin’
    Off to his bed
    To rest his sweet head.
    When he found out a fit he was throwin’.

    There once was a beautiful holler
    A place to on life’s meaning ponder
    But the loggers destroyed
    The peace we enjoyed
    And the holler is quiet no longer.

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Gigi,

      Hee hee for the pink ballerina and her margarita, and a big “HA!” for rhyming Tony, balogna and moany!

      Reply
  10. Roy Eugene Peterson

    WASTE WATER LIMERICK

    I’ve seen the cost of water soar.
    The toilet wastes water galore.
    So, where I now pee
    In my yard it’s free.
    And now I don’t waste anymore.

    ROSIE O’GADY

    The thing about Rosie O’Grady,
    She was not much of a lady.
    She beat the boys up
    With her drinking cup
    And laid them to rest where it’s shady.

    ERIN GO-BRA-LESS

    I married a nice girl named Bess.
    She once was my wife, I confess.
    While water skiing
    Her bra went fleeing
    We called her, Erin Go-Bra-Less.

    Poet Note
    True story with wife’s name changed.
    My wife was mostly Irish.
    Play on words of “Erin go Bragh” meaning “allegiance to Ireland,”

    CORN ON THE COB

    The corn on the cob was so dear,
    Though something about it was queer.
    Seems he couldn’t cut
    Through all of the smut
    So, he threw it out on its ear.

    CHAGRINED

    The man who was standing upwind
    Became just a little chagrined.
    He yelled in good grace,
    As wind slapped his face,
    “The time has now come to break wind.”

    CHRISTMAS PARTY

    The party was going too slow.
    A girl I wanted to know.
    It was Christmas time
    And she looked divine.
    I kissed her neath the mistletoe.

    THE CARNIE

    A con Carnie from a carnival
    Headed for Cape Canaveral.
    He conned him a ride
    When he hid inside.
    He died from the capsule spiral.

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Roy,

      Groan. Groan. And more groans. Wonderful groans with ears flying and wind breaking and Erin go bra-lesses all over the place. My only other thoughts involve imagining all the spots of dead grass in your backyard and thinking that you are, in fact, wasting your waste when there are actual ways to convert urea into fertilizer!

      Which reminds me of Thomas Crapper, the inventor of the modern toilet and his wonderfully short biography with the Roy-ish title, “Flushed with Pride.” (All true).

      Reply
      • Roy Eugene Peterson

        Ha, ha! My turn to laugh. Thank you for the groans and for who invented the modern toilet! I should stop “wasting my waste” and make it productive. And yes, it is a fenced backyard! I aim for the weeds.

  11. Angel L. Villanueva

    There once was a fellow named Clair
    Who gave his beloved a scare.
    But she didn’t know
    He’d meant not to show
    His face but the mask from the fair.

    Reply
  12. Adam Sedia

    There once was an old man of Split
    Whose wife’s cooking lacked quite a bit:
    She’d scoop out the toilet
    Then season and boil it.
    He thought her food tasted like shit.

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Adam, I never dreamed you had this in you. Of course there’s no pun intended.

      Reply
  13. Paul A. Freeman

    …and one fresh off the press:

    Emoluments Clause Limerick

    “An airplane’s a beautiful gift,”
    Said Trump, “and it fills Boeing’s rift.
    So do not suggest,
    As Qatar’s famed guest,
    I shouldn’t indulge in some grift.”

    Reply
  14. Jeff Eardley

    A Lancashire lad, Oswald Twistle,
    Once sat, in the nude, on a thistle.
    As he lifted his hips,
    So he pursed both his lips.
    ‘‘Twas the one thing that made Oswald whistle.

    Reply
  15. Mike Bryant

    Some Muppets eat all of the hoaxes
    The Media lies, spins and coaxes.
    Ya gotta just bless ‘em
    It’s no good to press ‘em
    The poor little Fools are just jokeses!

    Really, ya gotta at least listen to the other side…

    https://www.whitehouse.gov/articles/2025/04/100-days-of-hoaxes-cutting-through-the-fake-news/

    The truth… if anyone cares… Boeing is so screwed over by liberal DEI crap that they are late with the delivery of the new Air Force One.
    The gov’t to gov’t gift will be transferred to Trump’s Presidential Library. It’s all business as usual.

    Reply
    • Joseph S. Salemi

      If a major aircraft company like Boeing can’t deliver a plane on time because of some goddamed anti-white DEI policies, we really are going to be screwed in the next war.

      Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      The silly part is that the Saudi plane is ann old refitted Boeing 747 with few of the security requirements of AF1. It’s sort of like kissing your gorgeous, sexy, beautiful sister. Not really a starter. As POTUS, Trump will never fly in it.

      A clever PR stunt for the Saudis to unload something they don’t want, need, or use anymore.

      Good limerick, though!

      Reply
      • James A. Tweedie

        By the way, the gift offer is from Qatar.

    • Paul Freeman

      I’m sure the library will make good use of the plane. By the way, is Saudi also donating a library aircraft. Every other news outlet says Qatar is the favour-seeking culprit.

      Feel free to moderate.

      Reply
  16. Jeff Eardley

    This is pure English filth, so if you are of a sensitive disposition, look away now, or feel free to forward to a Mr. P. Diddy!!!

    There was a young fellow from Kent,
    Whose **** was exceedingly bent.
    To save him some trouble,
    He put in in double,
    But instead of coming, he went!

    Reply
    • Joseph S. Salemi

      Here’s another one about anatomical anomalies:

      There is a young lady named Moss,
      Whose vagina is three feet across.
      It’s the best part of valor
      To bugger the gal or
      One’s apt to fall in and get lost.

      Reply
      • James A. Tweedie

        “Rhyming” and “Rhythmic” for sure, and even “Rapturous” (in one sense of the word), although “Ribald” and “Risqué” would also well serve to describe these two Dickensonian utterances…

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        We need more ribald stuff. This place has a tendency to become pietistic and middle-class without it.

  17. Mike Bryant

    There was a young man from Dundee;
    Who buggered an ape in a tree.
    The results were quite horrid:
    All arse and no forehead,
    Three balls and a purple goatee.

    ~Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909)

    Reply
  18. Mike Bryant

    The limerick packs laughs anatomical
    Into space that is quite economical.
    But the good ones I’ve seen
    So seldom are clean
    And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

    ~Anon

    Reply
  20. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    At afternoon tea at The Ritz
    The waitress flashed pics of her tits –
    All perky and pretty
    They twittered a ditty –
    Two ornithological hits!

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Susan,

      If there were a prize for this thread, you might win it for fitting “ornithological” into your limerick. Whether any of the rest of it would qualify for a prize I will defer to the in-discretion of Mike, Joe, and Jeff!

      Reply
      • Susan Jarvis Bryant

        James, your wit has made me titter, but surely only those with a pure love of British tits of the feathered variety would be the only true judges of this ornithophile’s limerick.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Susan’s limerick would definitely take the prize. I’ve always been in favor of British tits.

      • Roy Eugene Peterson

        Now I know why British slang for a pretty girl or woman is “bird.”

  21. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Although I have a personal aversion to shady material, here is one I remember from “Playboy” in the 1960’s that seems to fit right in with some of the hilarious limericks that have been added:

    A lesbian once from Khartoum
    Asked a queer to come up to her room.
    They spent the whole night
    In a heck of a fight
    As to who should do what and to whom.

    Reply
  22. Roy Eugene Peterson

    I thought we needed some Irish limericks, so here are three of them:

    LEPECHUAN SEAN LOST HIS GOLD

    Leprechuan Sean in days of old
    Got a little drunk and too bold.
    Kissed a girl in the pub
    And there is the rub.
    That’s how he lost all of his gold.

    LEPRECHUAN SEAN GOT CAUGHT

    Leprechuan Sean’s last name was Shamus
    He loved Irish beer that was famous.
    He stole from the pier
    Every keg of beer.
    We caught him and no one could blame us.

    LEPRECHUAN SEAN HID HIS GOLD

    Leprechuan Sean hid gold in his socks.
    He hung them in grandfather clocks.
    He painted some stones
    In bright golden tones.
    He called his fakes simply sham-rocks.

    Reply
  23. Roy Eugene Peterson

    And finally, here are my original Halloween limericks:

    BELLADONER

    The witches that shared a black coven
    Baked a meatloaf in their hot oven.
    They all were a gonner.
    Too much belladonner
    They died eating what they were lovin’.

    BURNED

    A witch who was burning in Salem,
    Said some night I’ll be back and haunt em.
    She never returned,
    Because she was burned.
    Her spirit could not even taunt them.

    RECIPE

    The witches were making a pot
    From a recipe somebody got.
    They stirred the green goo
    Like witches do,
    But it tasted like butterfly snot.

    HAVING A BLAST

    The witches and their helping cast
    Stirred the kettle a little too fast.
    While the witches sang,
    The kettle went bang.
    You could say they were having a blast.

    GORILLA GLUE

    A witch who was named Lucy Lou.
    Used to gossip while making her brew.
    Then one witchey night,
    Her lips were sealed tight.
    They had thrown in Gorilla glue.

    Reply
  24. Maria

    There once was a girl from Inverness
    Who was sharp and a wizard at chess,
    She beat all the girls
    But with the fellas she failed
    Because her strategies failed to impress.

    There once was a mischievous muse
    Who both wished to impress and amuse,
    Her rhymes were divine
    Her meter sublime
    But really her limericks were nothing but lewd.

    There was a young girl from France
    Who gave the school bus a pass,
    She thought school a curse
    That would maim and oppress
    So now she’s at home reading Marx.

    Reply
    • Maria

      Or
      There once was a mischievous muse
      Who loved to vex, not amuse
      Her meter was heavy
      Her rhymes were unsteady
      But her limericks were deliciously rude.

      There once was a young wife from France
      Who was truly bored with her tasks,
      She took refuge in dreams
      And sinister tweets,
      So now she’s been handcuffed and charged.

      There once was a girl from Africa
      Who worked as a school janitor
      She thought school a curse
      A prison to maim and oppress
      So now she’s at home with sciatica.

      Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Since Maria broached the subject of Inverness, I feel inspired to dredge up another (kindred) limerick from my aforementioned book,

      An author, a fair Inverness miss,
      Wrote prose in a pub drinking Guinness.
      After three or four drafts
      She blamed all her gaffes
      On her fictional amanuensis

      Reply
      • Maria

        If writing in a pub drinking Guinness is the way to become an author, I think I’ll start tomorrow.
        Or perhaps I’ll sit in the garden with a Guinness. Have to finish that book I started ten years ago somehow…

  25. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Here is one of mine for Thanksgiving:

    THE TURKEY SAID MOO

    I found my tom turkey inside
    Of the barn where he tried to hide.
    I asked is that you?
    My turkey said moo.
    I cut off his head ’cause he lied.

    Reply
    • Maria

      This one’s hilarious. I don’t think I will be able to see Turkey in the same way ever again.
      Moo

      Reply
      • Roy Eugene Peterson

        Bless you, Maria! I greatly appreciate your comment.

  26. Paul Freeman

    Not mine, but about the funniest limerick I know:

    From the crypt of the church of St. Giles,
    Came a scream that resounded for miles.
    Said the vicar, “Good gracious,
    Does Father Ignacious,
    Not know that the Bishop has piles.”

    Reply
    • Joseph S. Salemi

      That particular limerick is well known in High Anglican and Catholic circles. I have heard it in a slightly different form:

      From the depths of the crypt in St. Giles
      Came a scream that resounded for miles.
      Said the vicar “Good gracious!
      Has Father Ignatius
      Forgotten the Bishop has piles!”

      Reply
  27. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    The cockiest Scot in Dundee
    Wore a kilt a foot up from his knee
    In a tartan so sparse
    It revealed half his arse –
    For his fine, furry sporran – praise be!

    Reply
    • James A. Tweedie

      Back in the day when my wife and I were living in Edinburgh, a man we knew (with de rigueur bandy legs) wore a kilt everywhere, all the time. One day he asked us if we knew the sign of an early spring? When we answered, “No,” he said, ”Tood be wen a Scotsman sits on a thistle!”

      Reply
  28. Paul A. Freeman

    Scotland seems to be featuring large!

    A well-endowed jogger from Leith,
    Wore a T-shirt with nowt underneath;
    With both bosoms freed,
    A quick burst of speed
    Broke her nose and knocked out her front teeth.

    Reply
  29. Paul A. Freeman

    And more topically:

    Qatari Gift Limerick

    Republicans said in the past,
    “Corruption has left us aghast.”
    Now focussed on gain,
    With gifts like a plane
    The swamp’s filling up mighty fast.

    Reply
    • Joseph S. Salemi

      Poor Freeman — he’s just so upset
      The American clock’s been re-set.
      It makes his life dreary.
      But what leaves him teary
      Is the fact that Trump’s gotten a jet.

      Our Trump’s cleaning up the whole world.
      The American flag is unfurled.
      He’s ending all farces
      And kicking Dem arses,
      And Freeman is foetally curled.

      If you’re stuck in a Third World lagoon
      It’s natural to pout and to swoon.
      But America’s happy —
      We’re free of a crappy
      Demented and addled buffoon.

      And if you don’t like what Trump’s doing
      Go ahead with your shouting and booing.
      We don’t give two humps
      If you’re down in the dumps.
      We like to see jerks like you stewing.

      Reply
      • Paul A. Freeman

        Responding to satire with personal insults is rather pathetic, but feel free.

        I saw the erosion of democracy in Zimbabwe under the Mugabe regime, and day by day am seeing the same happen in America. Calling it out is better than being silent, closing your eyes or excusing it.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        Did I say that you should stop your “shouting and booing”? Go right ahead with it if you like.

        But don’t expect not to get hit hard when you (as a foreigner) attack the overwhelming choice of the American people.

        MAGA forever.

      • Paul A. Freeman

        Hey, Joe, another interesting limerick about Boeing, following the Starliner debacle and the Alaska Airlines doorplug blowout.

        Boeing Gets F-47 Deal

        At Boeing, the CEO twerks
        on landing some aerospace perks.
        The F-47
        has left him in heaven –
        let’s hope the ejector seat works.

        I love how you jump to the defence of Americans commenting the UK in their poetry and comments, but the reverse gets has you booing and shouting.

      • Joseph S. Salemi

        You’re the one who is booing and shouting. I have never said that anyone has to censor themselves in what they say politically here.

        What I say is this: If you’re going to attack my country and my President, go ahead and do so. But expect to get kicked back hard in the teeth. That’s something totally different from censorship.

        I notice that left-liberals feel they have the right to say whatever they like about their enemies, but when their enemies return a rhetorical broadside they get all defensive and weepy and butt-hurt, and start whining about “victimhood.”

        You can’t have it both ways. If you you attack us, we’ll hit you right back twice as hard. The old-fashioned, polite, tea-and-crumpets conservative who never raised his voice in anger is gone forever. Get used to getting your ass kicked.

        MAGA forever.

  30. Maria

    There once was a lass from Monrose
    as fair and fresh as a rose
    but her friends were jealous
    and so her life was hellish
    So now she lives in New Jersey.

    Reply
  31. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Hugh Boodle had two labradoodles
    Refusing the oodles of noodles
    He served them for dinner –
    Their patience grew thinner –
    Hugh knew they preferred apple strudels.

    A trouser-less tramp rode a donkey
    One Chinese New Year of the Monkey.
    His offspring were bums
    With opposable thumbs,
    A bray and front teeth that were wonky.

    Reply
    • Maria

      I’ve got to say from the two, apple strudel is my favourite.
      Not only is it a super limerick it is quite a tongue twister worthy of Peter Piper fame.
      And Hugh Knew!

      Reply
  32. James A. Tweedie

    For Paul and Joe:

    Some say he’s God-blessed, or he’s cursed.
    The best that we’ve had or the worst.
    “Make America Great
    Again;” both Church and State.
    He’s the POTUS, Pope Donald the 1st.

    Reply
  33. Peter Venable

    Sagacity Rebuked

    He thought his poems buoyant and zephyrous.
    The editor’s note was obstreperous:
    “Your zealous hyperbole,
    Disportionality,
    Has made your consistency leprous.”

    Reply
  34. Mike Bryant

    Mae prayed for a soulful of hope.
    She was blessed with a Pope-on-a-Rope
    To cleanse away sin
    Beginning within –
    Now Mae has a hole full of soap.

    Reply

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