Our leaders think they know it all The limelight it keeps them enthralled They know what is best As they lecture the rest Yet flat on their face they will fall.
Tag: limerick poem
Limerick XXXII
Norm was a fisherman down at the pier He’d swill whiskey all through the year One day he sorta Fell into the water And that was the end for old Norm, the poor dear
Limerick XXXI
The wind was blowing like blazes But I knew that it wouldn’t faze us My hair flew in the air I said; I don’t care I’ve got more in my bathroom next to my razors