I met a man, Stan.
His nature is Afghani.
Yes! Afghanistan.

Twinkle Twinkle little star,
what a c*nt I think you are.

The lobster and the crab one day
Proposed a friendly race.
Agreed upon the time were they,
Agreed upon the place.
The start and finish lines were where
The two thought they should be.
The crayfish with a clock was there
To act as referee.
And though the rule-book then was read,
Not all was clarified;
For as the lobster forward sped
The crab went to the side.

(Jeffrey Krise)

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one.

(Gelett Burgess)

"The Story Of Nibbly McNibbleson"

Nibbly McNibbleson was the dog nibbling queen.
She’d nibble everything when she couldn’t be seen.

She nibbled her legs, and she nibbled her paws.
She nibbled so much; her poor body was raw.
Then, she nibbled her blanket the whole of the day,
to the point where she’d nibbled the blanket away.

One day, she tired of nibbling her bed,
and decided she’d try doing licking instead.

So, she licked all the mirrors, the tables, and chairs.
Then, she licked all the rugs and the carpeted stairs.
Her licking won a place in the dog Hall of Fame,
and so Licky McLickerson became her new name.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sorry to say,
I’m not into you.

"Have You Ever Seen"

Have you ever seen a sheet on a river bed?
Or a single hair from a hammer’s head?
Has the foot of a mountain any toes?
And is there a pair of garden hose?

Does the needle ever wink its eye?
Why doesn’t the wing of a building fly?
Can you tickle the ribs of a parasol?
Or open the trunk of a tree at all?

Are the teeth of a rake ever going to bite?
Have the hands of a clock any left or right?
Can the garden plot be deep and dark?
And what is the sound of the birch’s bark?

"I Love to Hate You"

Just one look at you
Tempting me, teasing me, tormenting me
I hate the feelings you evoke
Greed
Desire
Lust
Just want to hold you, devour you
I don’t want to see you go
But I can never resist the last chocolate in the box!

— Jan Allison

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

There was an Old Man of Coblenz,
The length of whose legs was immense;
He went with one prance
From Turkey to France,
That surprising Old Man of Coblenz.

Last night at dinner we had some fish,
and though I tried, I did not finish.
My mother told me while I chewed,
brains loved fish over all other food.

My Little Chocolate Mess

Bathwater and bubbles are waiting,
but my child is nowhere near.
Yet, I can see from cookie crumbs,
he's crawled from here to there.

Oh, yes! he's been in the kitchen.
I see his crooked crumb trail,
which leads to our white kitten,
with a chocolate, sticky tail!

In every room I search
for my little chocolate mess.
Then, I find him in the my bedroom,
with his hands on my new dress!

(Darlene Gifford)

"My Dog"

My family got a new dog.
Its fur is short and white.
I absolutely love him,
but something is not right.

His ears are soft and long
and flop along the side.
His tail is quite short
But also very wide.

He’s positively quiet.
He never makes a sound.
He’s got a real cute jump
when I put him on the ground.

I’m sure when he grows up.
He’ll be massively strong.
His favorite food’s carrots
He eats them all day long!

– Steve Hanson

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
You’re a pyscho,
But I still love you.

I own a big fat cat-
The fattest for miles around.
Wherever there's lots of food,
That's where he'll be found.

He's really good at eating.
It's a talent, I suppose.
I'm sure if he keeps at it
He'd win the talent shows.

I own a big fat cat-
He weighs at least a ton.
He couldn't run to save his life.
Yes, he isn't much fun.

His favourite room's the kitchen.
(I'm sure we all know why.)
He eats just about everything,
So that's why, with a sigh...

I'd like to tell you, Teacher,
I'd like to tell you straight,
I might have "accidentally" dropped
My homework in his plate.

(By Christian M. Mitewu)

"Halfway Down"

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn’t any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I’m not at the bottom,
I’m not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn’t up
And it isn’t down.
It isn’t in the nursery,
It isn’t in town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head.
It isn’t really
Anywhere!
It’s somewhere else
Instead!

– A. A. Milne

"I Can Rise And Shine"

I can rise and shine, but not at the same time,
You’ll have to pick one, or you’ll miss all the fun.
It’s the wrong side of the bed or the pounding in my head,
It must be all that beer, but there’s nothing to fear.
For despite my bad smell, I plead you not to yell,
And though I am lazy, please don’t get all crazy.
After all, I’m a man; I’m a male, just a guy,
And you knew what you were getting into when you gave us a try!

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I have a gun,
Get in the van.

"A Knotty Problem"

A scarf for a giraffe
Would be forty feet long
But how would a giraffe
Know how to put one on?

– Patrick Winstanley

Tinkle, Tinkle little car
How I wonder what you are.
Leaking oil every day
Having it your own way.
Going up hills real slow
I don’t want you any mo’.
Tinkle, Tinkle little car
Boy, what a lemon you are.
(Cecilia L. Goodbody)

Roses are red,
The earth is wide,
You’d look much better,
With me by your side.

Happy birthday twinkle toes
Your actual age no one knows
Your inner child is firmly out
Loving life not going without
And now another whole year older
Your bucket list is getting smaller
But everything that you have ticked
Is the same on my child’s wish list.

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater’s been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or—
Huh? You say it’s mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
(Shel Silverstein)

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I can’t believe,
You’re a monkey too

There was an Old Person of Chester,
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones,
Which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Ols Person of Chester.

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.

Her body glistens in the light
I urge to play with her all night
I pick her up and hold her steady
Take a deep breath, we both are ready.

I run one hand up her long neck
Just touching her makes me euphoric
Across her body, my right hand goes
I've been practicing, believe me, it shows.

Her body glistens in the light
I urge to play with her all night.
I pick her up and hold her steady,
Take a deep breath, we both are ready.

Another deep breath, the tension mounts.
Have to stay focused, every moment counts.
I am ready; let's get movin'.
Here it goes, we both start groovin'.

Her body glistens in the light.
I urge to play with her all night.
I pick her up and hold her steady,
Take a deep breath, we both are ready.

I start out slow to get in the swing.
As I do, she starts to sing.
The sounds and feelings grow more immense.
The movements become more intense.

Her body glistens in the light.
I urge to play with her all night.
I pick her up and hold her stea

There was an Old Man of Melrose,
Who walked on the tips of his toes;
But they said, 'It ain't pleasant,
To see you at present,
You stupid Old Man of Melrose.

My name is Spenser
No dog is denser
I'm not well smarted
But I'm big hearted
If you was hurted
I'd be alerted
And I'll come racing
To lick your facing.

(Jessica Amanda Salmonson)

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You look like a donkey,
And smell like one too.

There was a young fellow named Hall,
who died in the spring in the fall.
'Twould have been a bad thing,
had he died in the spring,
but he didn't — he died in the fall.

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.

My dog is quite hip.
Except when he takes a dip.
He looks like a fool,
when he jumps in the pool,
and reminds me of a sinking ship.

The time has come to pop the question,
Will you spend your life me?
And before you answer, I want you to know,
A “yes” comes with a shopping spree!

(Unknown)

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.

There was an Old Man of Madras,
Who rode on a cream-coloured ass;
But the length of its ears,
So promoted his fears,
That it killed that Old Man of Madras.

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.

That’s not my age; it’s just not true.
My heart is young; the time just flew.
I’m staring at this strange old face,
And someone else is in my place!

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.

You may not sew and you may not crochet,
You may not bake macaroons every day,
You may not buy tickets to a grand ballet,
Or be like the grandma of yesterday.

You may not answer with a vague, "Yes, dear,"
You may not have trouble in one ear.
You may not always have your knitting near,
Or overflow with constant cheer

You may not have scalloped, scented soap
Or fuzzy toilet seat covers (I hope)
With embroidery needles, you cannot cope.
Big hair? Wig hair? Nada and nope.

But I love you without the stereotype.
I've been thinking we should connect on Skype.
You're my bud, Grandma, and I'd really like it
If I could take your path and be able to hike it.

I look at what you do each day
And I see each one is your birthday.
You live anew in all you do.
I wanna be like you!

Company coming?
And your house is a big mess?
Just put on lipstick.

Taking a romantic ride today,
We sat upon the wagon.
Suddenly the horse lifted his tail
And we heard a roaring dragon!

The deafening sound hurt my ears
And the smell burned the hairs in my nose.
My girlfriend sat and glared at me.
Somehow my fault I suppose.

It was my idea to take the ride,
But how was I to know?
It really wasn't in my plans;
Didn't know the horse would blow.

The noise and the smell were bad enough,
As the wind blew quickly by.
But I think the very worst of it,
Was the brown stuff in my eye.

My girlfriend's face turned angry red.
So I figured I wouldn't dare,
Advise her of the smelly pieces
Of horse stuff in her hair.

The horse finally stopped; my girl ran away,
Stubbornly lifting her chin.
I think that horse was enjoying himself,
Cause I'm sure I saw him grin.

A lesson learned for me today.
Although I must confess,
I laughed so hard I nearly cried
As I wiped away the mess.

(by Annabel Sheila)

My dear, I’ve got some important news,
Please know it’s nothing bad,
But today I had to X-ray my head,
And your picture is all it had!

Roses are red,
Pizza sauce is too,
I ordered a large one,
I’m not sharing with you.

If life is like a box of chocolates,
is it rude to ask for candy?
Can you really say with certainty
that you even understand me?

When life hands you lemons
I think you'd better run.
Cause life can throw a curve ball
and hit you just for fun.

I can do without the chocolates
You can keep your lemons too.
Life is what you make of it
not what it makes of you.

(Sarina McConnell)

"The Porcupine"

Any hound a porcupine nudges
Can’t be blamed for harboring grudges,
I know one hound that laughed all winter
At a porcupine that sat on a splinter.

– Ogden Nash

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.

The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs,
To her uncle's white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You thought this was a love poem,
Now the joke is on you.