Bruce how on earth would Euncie hear
If you started to nibble her ear
A starter would be good
as some serve nice food
hope this brings you cheer

Bruce, ears are a truly bad feed
Of both of mine I have a need
But t'would be a winner
To go out to dinner
Though ears are forbidden, so heed.

One day in the middle of March
My car stuck in an arch
the top sliced off
as I gave a cough
Just as I came near to church

I frequently howl at the moon
Or the sun when the time is high noon
Or e'en bulbs of light
When inside at night
I'm hungry: can you spare a raccoon?

I do not like going out at night
Cos I got a really big fright
I saw and old man there
with a mermaild with long hair
Such an awsome sight

Were I to meet **Eunice** for dinner,
I'd act like myself -- LIFE'S WORST SINNER.
I'd nibble an ear
of beauty quite near
to being yon bottle's best spinner.

If I found a large heap of cash
I'd invite all my friends for a bash
We'd dance all night
Until daylight
Oh, yes! We'd make quite a splash.

On several bright beaches sat cash
that gave me an absolute rash.
My sourest complaining
included refraining
from hating most concepts of: "Stash!"

I once met a crab on the beach
I gave out such a loud screech
so I shouted "Oh, nO"
but I was too slow
For my foot just looked like a peach

When taking a walk on the beach
Make sure that the tide's out of reach
If it's high on the bay
You could be swept away
And it may not help much if you screech.

A You man who livved in Blackpool
Certainly was no fool.
He lived far from the beach
too far out of reach
So would go to the swimming pool.

A man who had no money
Felt rich as a sweet jar of honey
He had a very good friend
Who gave comfort no end
He found riches in friendship was yummy

A man both impoverished and poor
kept seeking an absolute cure.
The answer was: MONEY
as lovely as honey
endowed with some perfect allure.

A man who was very rich
while walking fell into a ditch
He doubled in pain
never walked again
Cos he always got a stitch

While walking today to a store,
I sensed I was knee-deep in gore.
I really was moving
toward forms of behooving
of little save burdensome lore.

A coach trip we went on one day
Didn't go too far away
Just up the street
to buy some nice meat
as we didn't want to stray

A flurry of limericks rises
whenever we don fine disguises.
We never, though, dote
on concepts that bloat
the comings of more Nobel Prizes.

Young men should not stroke many storks
In case they become Dads of course
For if they're not ready
Then life can be unsteady
So it's better to pat a horse.

I knew a man from Leeds
That always walked on his heels
But they got really sore
In fact they were raw
and in the end they peeled

There once was a gal from New York
who often repatted a stork.
Along soon came babies
in love with the rabies
brought on by big tunings of pork.

There was a young man from Japan
Who went out pushing a pram
He bought lots of bread
that he kept in the shed
Along with his tins of spam

The secret of dealing with strife
may be to keep handkerchiefs rife.
While forming my grammar,
I practiced my stammer
in manners that carved me a wiife.

This old women from HUll
Her life is never dull
She gets in a tizzy
cos she is kept busy
but she leads life to the full

Ah noses can become runny
Even when it is really sunny
So give them a blow
Even when you feel low
And the noise you make sounds rather funny.

A pupil so clever at school
Sat at a desk with a fool.
They vied for top place;
How was that the case?
His mate was a comic, real cool.