Brassy Limerick
I hope you’ll join me in writing a limerick with this first line:
A brassy old woman named Joan…
Here’s the limerick I wrote with that line. (It’s a three-verser, but a standard one-verse limerick is fine, of course.)
Brassy Limerick
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A brassy old woman named Joan
Loves the trumpet, but hates the trombone.
When people ask why
She says, “Married a guy
Who played bone with a terrible tone.”
She continues, “He made my head ache,
And he played it all night, for God’s sake.
I divorced him on grounds
Of cacophonic sounds.
Then I wed a French horn-playing rake.”
“He cheated on me day and night.
So I fin’ly said, go fly a kite!
Now I’m single again
And I’ll never date men
Who play brass, cuz those guys ain’t polite.”
Please feel free to write your own limerick using the same first line and post it in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity in my Limerick-Offs.
Tags: Brass Players, Divorce Humor, French Horn, Marriage Limerick, Music Humor & Verse, Musical Instruments, Poetry & Prompts, Trombone, Trumpet, Writing Prompts
A brassy old woman named Joan
Liked to jump on a young guy’s bone(s)
She wasn’t ashamed
And she couldn’t be blamed
She preferred it to sleeping alone.
A brassy old woman named Joan
had had it with sales on the phone
The next one that rung
was quite undone
when she belched out to high kingdom come
A brassy old woman named Joan
Was quite fond of her “beau-on-the-phone”
But sadly, one day,
As all things fade away:
All she heard was dial tone.
A brassy old woman named Joan
was enamored with her new telephone
Said she “my fingers can walk
so whom should I stalk?
The banker who called in my loan?”
These are fun! Please keep them coming!
A brassy old woman named Joan
Loved to have sex on the phone
She’d speak words so very
Into her Blackberry
While you were holding your own
A brassy old woman named Joan
who formerly dated Capone
Said his manners were shabby
And his chatter so gabby
That she’d hate it whenever he’d phone
This way I begin…
A brassy old woman named Joan
Got stuck in the nude to an ice cream cone
Hearing her blow at the top of her lung
From nowhere a saber toothed tiger sprung
Upon her, ate the whites, but left her shivering alone!
Oh?
A brassy old woman named Joan
Could never leave young men alone
It was her ardent style
That made them smile
Alas they always left her sitting on the WC throne!
More in the pipeline!
A brassy old woman named Joan
Was fond of talking to God on the phone
She huddled in a straight jacket
With a dead cat in a packet
And the voice said happily, “Hi there, I am Godfrey Stone!”
Mad, if this is too blue for you, feel free to delete it…
A brassy old woman named Joan
Was known for the cocks she had blown.
When she tried to find ratio,
For men to fellatio,
Her lack of math skills was then shown.
A brassy old lady named Joan
Said: “I’ll take out an equity loan
To buy gadgets and toys
To tempt all the boys,
And maybe they’ll throw me a bone.”
A brassy old woman named Joan
did sit at the bar and bemoan
‘bout troubles and woes
old lovers and foes
and money and men she had blown
A brassy old woman named Joan
Chose the piccolo over trombone.
In closets she’d stay.
With room to still play,
She’d practice her bell-like warm tone.
A brassy old woman named Joan
Walked into the men’s club alone
She said what she’d fancy
A man in blue pants, he
Said c’mon, your skills we’ll both hone.
A brassy old woman named Joan
Talked on and on in a drone
But her life took a turn
When she learned how to burn
As a 900 number on the phone.
A brassy woman named Joan
To war visions she was prone
Though tied to a stake
And forced there to bake
She helped Charles to the throne….
A brassy old woman named Joan,
To the bank she went for a loan,
Then she went for a cruise,
Spent the rest on some booze,
And now here credit is blown.
Today everything has gone wrong,
And it’s lasted just too darn long,
Was wound up so tight,
Would be up through the night,
Must have made my coffee too strong.
To relax would help ease the pain,
but what would work on this brain,
I knew I could write,
But no topic in sight,
And for this I must thank you, Ms. Kane.
Wow! What a fun assortment. Thanks everyone! Please keep them coming. And Ellen, you’re very welcome!
A brassy old woman named Joan,
lived in a no-parking zone.
The cops would come by
give one look and sigh,
“Better than living in Bayonne.”
… and I was not aware that limericks – by definition – should be dirty.
oboyoboyoboy!
There once was a brassy woman named Joan
Who wanted her prodigal son to disown.
But the boy had a smile
Could calm Wrath’s own bile
So she doled him another big loan.
A brassy old woman named Joan,
Just hated to live all alone,
She brought in some men,
Again and again,
A bordello she soon hopes to own!
A brassy old woman named Joan
Whose limericks have all clearly shown
That people can’t help
But giggle and yelp
Wants to laugh but mostly must groan
A brassy old woman named Joan
Looking much like a fashionable crone
Claimed a home life of bliss,
But to quote daughter Chris:
“Mommy Dearest was Dracula’s clone!”
Thanks again everyone for your fun limericks!