There once was a lad from West Philly
Who played basketball and got silly
He fought with some brothers
Which worried his mother
Now he's know as Bel Air's Fresh Prince, Willy
An ambitious young fellow named Matt,
Tried to parachute using his hat.
Folks below looked so small,
As he started to fall,
Then got bigger and bigger and SPLAT!
There was a Young Lady of Hull,
Who was chased by a virulent bull;
But she seized on a spade,
And called out, 'Who's afraid?'
Which distracted that virulent bull.
There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said, 'It is just as I feared!
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!'
There once was a young man called Kyle,
who worked at the circus a while.
He flew through the air,
with hardly a care,
and that's why his body's in a pile.
An intrepid explorer named Petty,
Intended to capture a yeti.
But the yeti yelled, Freeze!
I’ve a gun—on your knees,
While my Dad gets the ring and confetti.
There was an Old Person of Dutton,
Whose head was as small as a button,
So, to make it look big,
He purchased a wig,
And rapidly rushed about Dutton.
There was an Old Man of Corfu,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he rushed up and down,
Till the sun made him brown,
That bewildered Old Man of Corfu.
There was a young lady of Lynn,
Who was so excessively thin.
That when she assayed,
To drink lemonade,
She slipped through the straw and fell in.
Remember when nearly sixteen,
On your very first date as a teen.
At the movies? If yes,
Then I bet you can't guess,
What was shown on the cinema screen.
There was an Old Person of Prague,
Who was suddenly seized with the Plague;
But they gave his some butter,
Which caused him to mutter,
And cured that Old Person of Prague.
There once was a boy named Dan,
who wanted to fry in a pan.
He tried and he tried,
and eventually died,
that weird little boy named Dan.
There was a Young Lady of Clare,
Who was sadly pursued by a bear;
When she found she was tired,
She abruptly expired,
That unfortunate Lady of Clare.
There was an Old Man of the West,
Who never could get any rest;
So they set him to spin
On his nose and chin,
Which cured that Old Man of the West.
There was an Old Man with a flute,
A sarpint ran into his boot;
But he played daay and night,
Till the sarpint took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.
There once was a girl named Zoe,
She went out in her yard which was quite snowy.
She ate her brother,
Asked her parents for another,
So they had another named Joey.
There was a young lady of Kent,
Whose nose was most awfully bent.
There was an Old Person of Philæ,
Whose conduct was scroobious and wily;
He rushed up a Palm,
When the weather was calm,
And observed all the ruins of Philæ.
There was a Young Lady whose chin,
Resembled the point of a pin.
So she had it made sharp,
And purchased a harp,
And played several tunes with her chin.
There was an Old Man who said, 'Well!
Will nobody answer this bell?
I have pulled day and night,
Till my hair has grown white,
But nobody answers this bell!'
There was an old person of Troy,
Whose drink was warm brandy and soy,
Which he took with a spoon,
By the light of the moon,
In sight of the city of Troy.
Once I did hear my brother call
The sun a giant fire ball.
How can that be?
For what I see,
Is something up high so small.
I see it at the break of dawn,
When it announces the day is on.
Its brilliant gold,
A joy to behold,
And being outside is so much fun.
John might be right, for I must say,
The sun is not so cool at midday.
Its shining light
Is just so bright,
I have to pull my eyes away.
Evening comes and it's so strange
How the sun still appears to change.
No longer small,
A bigger ball.
Its tone, now a lovely bright orange!
This curious ball hanging up high,
For me, raises many questions why.
But when it shines,
Then life is fine.
Thank God the sun is in the sky.
(By Abimbola T. Alabi)
I know an old owl named Boo,
Every night he yelled Hoo,
Once a kid walked by,
And started to cry,
And yelled I don't have a clue!
There was an Old Man of Kilkenny,
Who never had more than a penny;
He spent all that money,
In onions and honey,
That wayward Old Man of Kilkenny.
There was an Old Person of Ischia,
Whose conduct grew friskier and friskier;
He dance hornpipes and jigs,
And ate thousands of figs,
That lively Old Person of Ischia.
I've done it -- I've done mown the lawn,
But my muscles are aching and torn.
I could swear there are some,
In my legs and my bum,
I've not used since the year I was born.
As for beauty I am not a star,
There are others much more handsome by far.
But my face - I don't mind it,
For I am behind it,
It's the people in front that I jar.
A circus performer named Brian,
Once smiled as he rode on a lion.
They came back from the ride,
But with Brian inside,
And the smile on the face of the lion.
I once fell in love with a blonde,
But found that she wasn't so fond.
Of my pet turtle named Odle,
whom I'd taught how to Yodel,
So she dumped him outside in the pond.
There was an Old Person of Spain,
Who hated all trouble and pain;
So he sat on a chair,
With his feet in the air,
That umbrageous Old Person of Spain.
There was an Old Man at a casement,
Who held up his hands in amazement;
When they said, 'Sir, you'll fall!'
He replied, 'Not at all!'
That incipient Old Man at a casement.
There was an Old Man of the Cape,
Who possessed a large Barbary ape,
Till the ape one dark night
Set the house all alight,
Which burned that Old Man of the Cape.
There was an Old Person of Ems,
Who casually fell in the Thames;
And when he was found
They said he was drowned,
That unlucky Old Person of Ems.
There was a boisterous boy called Joe
Who loved to play in the fresh falling snow.
He went sledging one day
On his wild husky powered sleigh,
Tumbled tumultuously and broke his big toe.
There was an Old Lady whose folly,
Induced her to sit on a holly;
Whereon by a thorn,
Her dress being torn,
She quickly became melancholy.
There was an Old Man with a owl,
Who continued to bother and howl;
He sat on a rail
And imbibed bitter ale,
Which refreshed that Old Man and his owl.
There was an Old Sailor of Compton, Whose vessel a rock it once bump'd on;
The shock was so great, that it damaged the pate,
Of that singular Sailor of Compton.
There was an Old Man of the Dee,
Who was sadly annoyed by a flea;
When he said, 'I will scratch it,'
They gave him a hatchet,
Which grieved that Old Man of the Dee.
There once was a poet named Bates
Whose limericks were never that great
His first lines weren't bad
But the problem he had
Was he always tried to fit way too many syllables in at the end.
There was an Old Man of Kamschatka,
Who possessed a remarkable fat cur;
His gait and his waddle
Were held as a model
To all the fat dogs in Kamschatka.
There was an Old Person of Hurst,
Who drank when he was not athirst;
When they said, 'You'll grw fatter,'
He answered, 'What matter?'
That globular Person of Hurst.
Is it me or the nature of money,
That's odd and particularly funny.
But when I have dough,
It goes quickly, you know,
And seeps out of my pockets like honey.
If a person would have several friends,
here's the thing upon which it depends;
are you willing to share
when there isn't much there
and burn up your day from both ends.
(By Steve Mckee)
There was an Old Person of Ewell,
Who chiefly subsisted on gruel;
But to make it more nice
He inserted some mice,
Which refreshed that Old Person of Ewell.
There once was a vicar at Kew
Who kept his pet cat in a pew.
He taught it to speak
alphabetical Greek,
but it never got farther than µ.
There was an Old Person of Basing,
Whose presence of mind was amazing;
He purchased a steed,
Which he rode at full speed,
And escaped from the people of Basing.
A crossword compiler named Moss,
Who found himself quite at a loss.
When asked, Why so blue?
Said, I haven’t a clue
I’m 2 Down to put 1 Across.
There was an Old Person of Bangor,
Whose face was distorted with anger!
He tore off his boots,
And subsisted on roots,
That irascible Person of Bangor.
There was a Young Person of Crete,
Whose toilette was far from complete;
She dressed in a sack,
Spickle-speckled with black,
That ombliferous person of Crete.
There is a young schoolboy named Mason,
Whose mom cuts his hair with a basin.
When he stands in one place,
With a scarf round his face,
It's a mystery which way he’s facing.
An executive reckless and bitter
Made a fool of himself via Twitter
"Please stop!" they entreated
But in answer he Tweeted
"If I do they'll call me a quitter!"