There was a Young Lady of Lucca,
Whose lovers completely forsook her;
She ran up a tree,
And said, 'Fiddle-de-dee!'
Which embarassed the people of Lucca.

There was a young schoolboy of Rye,
Who was baked by mistake in a pie.
To his mother’s disgust,
He emerged through the crust,
And exclaimed, with a yawn, Where am I?

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 Lady of Prague,
Whose language was horribly vague;
When they said, 'Are these caps?'
She answered, 'Perhaps!'
That oracular Lady of Prague.

The incredible Wizard of Oz,
Retired from his business becoz.
Due to up-to-date science,
To most of his clients,
He wasn't the Wizard he woz.

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 who said, 'Hush!
I perceive a young bird in this bush!'
When they said, 'Is it small?'
He replied, 'Not at all!
It is four times as big as the bush!'

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.

A young schoolgirl named Rose,
Is rather ashamed of her nose.
She distracts people's stares,
With the mice that she wears,
Hanging down from her clothes.

There was an Old Man, on whose nose,
Most birds of the air could repose;
But they all flew away
At the closing of day,
Which relieved that Old Man and his nose.

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.

I'd rather have Fingers than Toes,
I'd rather have Ears than a Nose.
And as for my Hair,
I'm glad it's all there,
I'll be awfully sad when it goes.

I'm papering walls in the loo,
And quite frankly I haven't a clue.
For the pattern's all wrong,
Or the paper's too long,
And I'm stuck to the toilet with glue.

There was an Ol Man of Quebec,
A beetle ran over his neck;
But he cried, 'With a needle,
I'll slay you, O beadle!'
That angry Old Man of Quebec.

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 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 a Young Lady whose nose,
Was so long that it reached to her toes;
So she hired an Old Lady,
Whose conduct was steady,
To carry that wonderful nose.

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.

There was a young woman named Jenny
Whose limericks were not worth a penny.
Oh, the rhyme was all right,
And the meter was tight,
But whenever she tried to write any,
She always wrote one line too many!

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 Cheadle,
Who was put in the stocks by the beadle
For stealing some pigs,
Some coats, and some wigs,
That horrible person of Cheadle.

If you’re lacking a little good cheer,
Go and tickle a bull in the rear.
For I’m sure that the rumor,
That they’ve no sense of humor,
Is a product of ignorant fear.

There was an Old Person of Mold,
Who shrank from sensations of cold,
So he purchased some muffs,
Some furs and some fluffs,
And wrapped himself from the cold.

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 Bangor,
Whose face was distorted with anger!
He tore off his boots,
And subsisted on roots,
That irascible Person of Bangor.

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.

There once was a person named Ned,
Who had nary a hair on his head.
He pated his pate
and bemoaned his fate,
And went to hide under his bed.

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 Man of the South,
Who had an immederate mouth;
But in swallowing a dish,
That was quite full of fish,
He was choked, that Old Man of the South.

There was a Young Lady of Wales,
Who caught a large fish without scales;
When she lifted her hook
She exclaimed, 'Only look!'
That ecstatic Young Lady of Wales.

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 Portugal,
Whose ideas were excessively nautical:
She climbed up a tree,
To examine the sea,
But declared she would never leave Portugal.

There was an Old Man with a gong,
Who bumped at it all day long.
But they called out, no more,
You're a horrid old bore,
So they smashed that Old Man with a gong.

There once was a colour named orange,

...Damnit.

There was an Old Person of Cromer,
Who stood on one leg to read Homer;
When he found he grew stiff,
He jumped over the cliff,
Which concluded that Person of Cromer.

There was an Old Man of Peru,
Who never knew what he should do;
So he tore off his hair,
And behaved like a bear,
That intrinsic Old Man of Peru.

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's this subject called chemistry
how it works is a total mystery
it is an atom
says my madam
but all I see is my misery.

(By Faaizah)

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 was an Old Person of Tartary,
Who divided his jugular artery;
But he screeched to his wife,
And she said, 'Oh, my life!
Your death will be felt by all Tartary!'

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.

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.

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!"

There was an Old Man of th' Abruzzi,
So blind that he couldn't his foot see;
When they said, 'That's your toe,'
He replied, 'Is it so?'
That doubtful Old Man of th' Abruzzi.

There was a young man from Lahore
Whose limericks stopped at line four.
When asked why this was,
He responded, "Because."

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.

If ice cream could be grown on the tree top,
Tiny tummies would be liking it lots.
Any fruit flavour
For all to savour.
Do stop by at the ice cream tree shop.

If only the trees could grow lollipops
With a sharp tangy taste of lemon drops.
Lolly licky-lick
With a zingy twist.
Come along with a skip and a hop.

If chocolate heaven grew on tree leaf,
Bountiful, tempting, delicious to eat,
A smooth, silky, treat
In a chocy feast.
If only they weren't so out of reach.

If bubblegum grew upon trees that blew
Bubbles in the air, to catch and to chew.
Be nimble, be quick;
Remember the trick.
Don't swallow, because gum sticks like glue.

All are welcome at the Candy Tree Shops.
Feast your eyes on all the goodies they've got.
There are enough treats
For all down the streets,
So come and join the jiggery-jog.

(By Beryl L Edmonds)

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 once was a man from Tibet,
Who couldn't find a cigarette.
So he smoked all his socks,
and got chicken-pocks,
and had to go to the vet.