There was an Old Man of the coast,
Who placidly sat on a post;
But when it was cold
He relinquished his hold
And called for some hot buttered toast.

There was a Young Lady of Dorking,
Who bought a large bonnet for walking;
But its colour and size,
So bedazzled her eyes,
That she very soon went back to Dorking.

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 Person of Dover,
Who rushed through a field of blue Clover;
But some very large bees,
Stung his nose and his knees,
So he very soon went back to Dover.

There was an Old Man of New York, Who murdered himself with a fork;
But nobody cried though he very soon died,-
For that silly Old Man of New York.

There was an Old Man of Vienna,
Who lived upon Tincture of Senna;
When that did not agree,
He took Camomile Tea,
That nasty Old Man of Vienna.

There was an Old Man of Columbia,
Who was thirsty, and called out for some beer;
But they brought it quite hot,
In a small copper pot,
Which disgusted that man of Columbia.

A mosquito cried out in great pain,
"A chemist has poisoned my brain!"
And the cause of his sorrow
Was para-dichloro-
Diphenyl-trichloroethane.

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 was an Old Person of Buda,
Whose conduct grew ruder and ruder;
Till at last, with a hammer,
They silenced his clamour,
By smashing that Person of Buda.

There was an Old Person of Sparta,
Who had twenty-one sons and one 'darter';
He fed them on snails,
And weighed them in scales,
That wonderful Person of Sparta.

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 Person of Cadiz,
Who was always polite to all ladies;
But in handing his daughter,
He fell into the water,
Which drowned that Old Person of Cadiz.

There was an Old Man of Nepaul,
From his horse had a terrible fall;
But, though split quite in two,
By some very strong glue,
They mended that Man of Nepaul.

There was an Old Man of the Hague,
Whose ideas were excessively vague;
He built a balloon
To examine the moon,
That deluded Old Man of the Hague.

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.

I remember when I was small and cool,
I was always playing truant from school.
My mum used to say,
"You'll regret it one day
When you grow up to become a fool."

Now I'm old; the damage is done.
How I wish I'd listened to Mum.
If I could turn back time,
I'd study hard and toe the line
Instead of acting foolish and dumb.

Now let that be a lesson to one and all
That life is more than just having a ball.
It was great having fun
When I was young,
But I wish I'd spent more time in the school hall.

(By John P. Read )

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 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 was an Old Man of Leghorn,
The smallest that ever was born;
But quickly snapped up he
Was once by a puppy,
Who devoured that Old Man of Leghorn.

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 an Old Man of Peru,
Who watched his wife making a stew;
But once by mistake,
In a stove she did bake,
That unfortunate Man of Peru.

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 once was a colour named orange,

...Damnit.

I need a front door for my hall,
The replacement I bought was too tall.
So I hacked it and chopped it,
And carefully lopped it,
And now the dumb thing is too small.

An elderly man called Keith,
Mislaid his set of false teeth.
They'd been laid on a chair,
He'd forgot they were there,
Sat down, and was bitten beneath.

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.

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)

Limericks I cannot compose,
With noxious smells in my nose.
But this one was easy,
I only felt queasy,
Because I was sniffing my toes.

There is a Young Lady whose nose
Continually prospers and grows;
When it grew out of sight,
she exclaimed in a fright,
"Oh! Farewell to the end of my nose!"

One Saturday morning at three,
A cheese monger's shop in Paree.
Collapsed to the ground,
With a thunderous sound,
Leaving only a pile of de brie.

My ambition, said old Mr. King,
Is to live as a bird on the wing.
Then he climbed up a steeple,
Which scared all the people,
So they caged him and taught him to sing.

There was a young person called Smarty,
Who sent out his cards for a party.
So exclusive and few,
Were the friends that he knew,
That no one was present but Smarty.

There was an Old Man of Apulia,
Whose conduct was very peculiar
He fed twenty sons,
Upon nothing but buns,
That whimsical Man of Apulia.

There was an Old Man of the East,
Who gave all his children a feast;
But they all ate so much
And their conduct was such
That it killed that Old Man of the East.

There once was a farmer from Leeds,
Who swallowed a packet of seeds.
It soon came to pass,
He was covered with grass,
But has all the tomatoes he needs.

There once was a man from Peru,
his limericks always end on line two.

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.

A canner, exceedingly canny,
One morning remarked to his granny.
A canner can can,
Anything that he can,
But a canner can't can a can, can he?.

There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his wife up in a box;
When she said, 'Let me out!'
He exclaimed, 'Without doubt,
You will pass all your life in that box.'

There was an odd fellow named Gus,
When travelling he made such a fuss.
He was banned from the train,
Not allowed on a plane,
And now travels only by bus.

An elephant slept in his bunk,
And in slumber his chest rose and sunk.
But he snored -- how he snored!
All the other beasts roared,
So his wife tied a knot in his trunk.

There was a young lady named Rose,
Who had a large wart on her nose.
When she had it removed,
Her appearance improved,
But her glasses slipped down to her toes.
She followed her nose,
One day, I suppose,
And no one knows which way she went.

There was a Young Lady of Norway,
Who casually sat on a doorway;
When the door squeezed her flat,
She exclaimed, 'What of that?'
This courageous Young Lady of Norway.

There once was a lady from Guam
who said, "Now the sea is so calm,
I shall swim in the dark!"
She encountered a shark.
Let us all sing the Twenty-Third Psalm.

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 enchanting young bride,
Who ate many green apples and died.
The apples fermented,
inside the lamented,
and made cider inside her inside.

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.

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.