Where did the weekend go? I can’t believe it’s Monday again. And that means it’s limerick time. Here’s a new one for you. Your word this week is:
FRIES
Last week’s prompt was SOCKS. You came up with some funny limericks:
Nicola Daly:
There once was a snazzy young fox
Loved posing in pink frilly socks
She stood on a chair
Flicked her flowing red hair
And said, ‘Don’t they go well with my locks?’
Some people describe me as nuts
Over meanness and deep spending cuts.
Cut ribbons from frocks,
Keep darning those socks.
Saving pounds doesn’t make you a klutz!
I decided to buy yellow socks.
That had daisy flowers and flox
Printed on bold
Stopping the cold
That came in a snazzy green box!
–
Keith always wore odd socks
Red and green to go with his Doc’s
Colour blind he was not
And he hadn’t lost the plot
He was just an eccentric old fox!
There once was a guy on the rocks
with problems that puzzled the docs.
He went to a seer
Who pulled him near.
Whispering, “I think it’s your smelly socks.”
There once was a boy named Ted
Who’s one sock was blue, the other red
It was quite clear
He really didn’t care
And wore fashions other’s would dread.
There’s a tickety-toc to old clocks.
There’s a warmth when one wears woolen socks.
Every that has a this.
Every love wants a kiss.
Every love that’s untrue merely mocks.
Little Miss Goldilocks
Was in for terrible shocks
She began to pout
When her big toes stuck out
She had large holes in her socks.
When she gets mad, she socks
She used to just throw rocks
But she loves it bunches
When she can throw punches
At those she taunts and mocks.
In diets, every ounce counts,
Be it in large or small amounts,
But when it comes to socks
And the weight is a shock,
A true friend is paramount!
Olaf Sturlasson’s Poetry Corner:
A man who wore sandals with socks
And often paired them with frocks
Was never afraid
Of being brayed
As he came from the school of hard knocks.
I should wear boots with my socks,
My toes are all bruised from the knocks.
Whenever I go scrambling,
Ambling or rambling.
Especially when I climb over rocks.
And a poem on the prompt from:
Wilf Leahy:
Now in days long ago
When they fought with the bow
There lived a fair maid with long locks
She saw man after man
And never took off her socks.
***
Esther Chilton 
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