I hope you all enjoyed your weekend. Here’s your limerick challenge this week. Your word is:
BOWL
Last week’s prompt was FRANK. You came up with some very amusing limericks:
Nicola Daly:
There was once a frolicsome frog called Frank
Crossed the street on his way to rob a bank
But he forgot his size
Which was most unwise
When he got squashed by a car built like a tank.
I once knew a guy called Frank
Six foot eight and built like a tank
You’d have thought him a bodyguard
A bouncer all tough and hard
But instead he worked in a bank.
There once was a Frenchman named Frank,
who painted by the Seine, either bank;
Rive Droite ou Rive Gauche,
but his paintings were moche,
et sa clientèle a progressivement diminué!
(and his clientele gradually shrank!).
Be ye Frank or be ye Gaul?
I have to ask them all
For my legion
Controls this region
And to stop invasion is my call.
Kate in Cornwall:
Frank Furter, when shopping in France,
For a prank tried to pay using Francs
His transaction failed
And the sale was curtailed
By the grocer who ‘gestured’, no thanks.
Our farmhand, let’s just call him Frank,
Slipped and fell in our new septic tank,
Then because of his tripping,
The chap emerged dripping,
And he’ll freely admit that he stank!
Though I thought I was perfectly Frank,
I was Jerry. Then Bill. My heart sank.
Then it rose with the thought
that whatever I caught . . .
You caught what? . . . Hmmm, my mind drew a blank.
Tony:
Frank walks alone, carrying a fragile dream,
Between shadows and lights, he seeks peace,
His heart beating with hope and courage,
He advances, guided by the force of choice,
Towards a future to write, free and true…
There once was a poet named Frank
And all of his poems where blank.
When people bought his verse
You would hear them curse –
As all of the pages where blank!
There once was a guy named Frank,
Who envisioned his boss on a plank.
After spending his lunch in a bar,
His running mouth traveled too far.
His paycheck amount is now blank.
My dear, if I may be frank,
Your walk is that of a plank:
Simply let yourself go
And soft movements will flow
But remember to keep your face blank.
Sanny M:
He was a fine fellow, that Frank
He worked in the local bank
Until on one day
He took more than his pay
Now abroad, the police drew a blank.
I really have to be Frank
My new neighbour is a crank!
He tried to help
But gave a yelp!
He’s broken my garden chair CLANK!
Olaf Sturlasson’s Poetry Corner:
A sailor whose ships would all sink
Made him sit up and think
It appears to me
I should not go to sea
To be frank, my luck it does stink.
Frank always spoke plainly and true
And told folks just what they should do
But when asked for advice
He’d just roll the dice
And claim, “I’m just as baffled as you!”
His name is Frank: (Mr. Frank Furter).
She left him before he could hurt her.
She now lives alone
with her unanswered phone
(she knows that he contemplates murder).
His grandfather’s name was Frank
He loved to play some pranks
They called him pop
Frank was a doc
Who smoked like a chimney and stank.
A nautical fellow named Frank
Took to sea in an old water tank
In there he hid
‘Till he opened the lid
And it filled full of water and sank.
When life has been gloomy and dank
And it’s not only armpits that stank
Just pretend things are fine
Drink a lot of good wine
And avoid all those who are Frank.
I knew this cool dude once named Frank
The man really could score some dank
No skunk weed for him
Only Flamingo Jim
He took all his profits to the bank!
There once was a fellow named Frank,
Who sailed in a boat, old and dank.
It started to sink,
He said with a wink,
“At least now I don’t owe the bank!”
I once had a friend called Frank,
On whom I played a small prank.
I loaded his boat,
Till it could barely float,
But then, unfortunately, it sank.
There once was a joker named Frank,
Who couldn’t resist a bad prank.
He’d say with a grin,
“Where do I begin?”
Then deliver a pun that just stank.
***
Image credit: Pinterest
Esther Chilton 
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