Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: Rain or Reign or Rein at the end of Line 1 or 2 or 5
It’s Limerick-Off time, once again. And that means I write a limerick, and you write your own, using the same rhyme word. Then you post your limerick(s) as a comment to this post and, if you’re a Facebook user, on Facebook too.
I hope you’ll join me in writing limericks using Rain or Reign or Rein at the end of Line 1 or Line 2 or Line 5. (Homonyms or homophones are fine.)
The best submission will be crowned Limerick-Off Award Winner. (Here’s last week’s Limerick-Off Award Winner.)
Additionally, you may write themed limericks related to BIRDS, using any rhyme scheme. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best BIRD-related limerick.
How will your poems be judged? By meter, rhyme, cleverness, and humor. (If you’re feeling a bit fuzzy about limerick writing rules, here’s my How To Write A Limerick article.)
I’ll announce the winners on July 10, right before I post the next Limerick-Off. So that gives you two full weeks to submit your clever, polished verse. Your submission deadline is Saturday, July 9, 2016 at 10:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my limerick:
Use the wipers. It’s starting to rain.
You’re drifting, so stay in your lane.
Slow down! Yellow light!
It’s a left — not a right!
Backseat drivers — a car owner’s bane!
Please feel free to enter my Limerick-Off by posting your limerick(s) in my comments. And if you’re on Facebook, I hope you’ll join my friends in that same activity on my Facebook Limerick-Off post.
To receive an email alert whenever I post a new Limerick-Off, please email Madkane@MadKane.com Subject: MadKane’s Newsletter. Thanks!
Tags: Competition Limerick, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Writing Prompts
Queen Elizabeth’s had quite a reign,
But the whole thing could be all in vain.
‘Cause the E.U. secession
Could bring on a depression,
And her country could go down the drain.
The Donald was proud of his brain,
But in Scotland, was heard to complain
“It’s not what it was
When I got here – because.
Of your weather, it’s shrunk in the rain.”
The eagle was soaring on high,
When it spotted a drone drifting by.
A battle plan hatched;
Then it easily snatched
That mechanical pest from the sky.
Tell me, what good is trav’ling by plane,
When it won’t leave the ground in the rain?
Yet another delay!
Happens day after day!
From now on, I’ll be going by train.
Those blankety blankety birds
Keep on bombing my head with their turds!
I think you’ll understand,
And my verse won’t be banned
If I blankety blank the bad words!
Without your sweet smile, there is rain.
I laugh but my heart is in pain.
It hurts you’re not mine,
I miss the sunshine;
I long for your kisses again.
You want a wild ride, grab a rein;
She’ll ride you and drive you insane!
She’ll seduce and excite,
You’ll have such delight
You’ll beg her to do it again.
RESUBMISSION
The problem was bread from rye grain.
The dampness, induced by the rain.
Ergot fungus the cause,
This should give one pause.
Salem “Witches” were really insane.
He fitted the bridle and rein
On the bimbo. She didn’t complain,
But she misunderstood
When he said “Toss me good!”
Now he’s lying in traction and pain.
This election is just for the birds
I can think of more colorful words.
As of this present date
There is just so much hate
Among diverse political herds.
To fly with a bird’s skill and grace!
To glide over vast, distant space!
See the land from up high,
So serene in the sky;
Then find a secure hiding place.
The Donald says he ought to reign
From sea to sea, o’er waves of grain.
But it makes me ill
To hear his swill;
I really doubt that man is sane.
My thoughts on the current campaign
To see which of the candidates reign
While I don’t think she’s fair
Honest, real or she cares
Still it’s better than him, he’s insane!
That day at the beach, I got burned,
Lying in the sun unconcerned.
As the gulls swooped down,
They gathered around
And left nary a stone unterned.
I seldom feel noted or heard
When offering wisdom of word
If my prose is too much
I’ll use gestures and such
Perhaps next time I’ll flip you the bird
Note to Mad: Rain or Reign or Rein? Why not all three?
These thunderstorms drive me insane,
Cause flooding all over, a pain.
They have seeded the sky
In an effort to try
To rein in the reign of the rain.
The mockingbirds constantly sing
While mating each year in the spring.
They chirp song after song
Very loud all night long,
‘Til their necks I am ready to wring!
In my garden, the mockingbirds creep.
Red tomatoes each day they do reap.
It’s their garden café;
To their friends they all say,
“Get the early bird special; it’s cheep.”
(A variant on an old joke)
At tea-time, the Queen would complain:
“The tea-pot is empty again;
I know that I filled it,
But somehow I spilled it –
I can’t pour, but I know how to reign.”
(And another old one resuscitated)
She was walking alone in the rain
When Count Dracula pounced. Oh, the pain!
“No need for alarm,”
He said, nibbling her arm,
“I am just in a humerus vein”.
“Birdbrains” is an insult to birds.
“Brexit” voters are brain-challenged nerds.
Between me and you,
Their collective IQ
Doesn’t rate one of Donald Trump’s turds.
There is sunshine after the rain;
Things glorious after mundane.
Beyond tears comes a smile,
Though it may take a while;
Fresh serenity after the pain.
His Lordship had picked up a girl,
And he paid her to give him a whirl.
But next day, the poor chap
Had contracted the clap –
The wormy bird catches the Earl.
(A true story)
I took my shoes back to complain
That they’d fallen apart, but in vain.
“Sir,” the salesman accused,
“They’ve been badly ill-used –
You’ve been wearing these shoes in the rain.”
“Your comment is awaiting moderation.”
Eh? What on earth is that?
From Mad Kane: You apparently used some word that my blogging software didn’t like. So instead of that limerick posting automatically, as usual, it was held back temporarily pending my manual approval. I approved it of course, but I don’t recall what word it was; it’s usually a word that’s popular with spammers.
The Habsburgs who ruled over Spain
Were an inbreeding unsightly strain.
Since their gene pool was rotten,
Good looks weren’t begotten:
In Spain on the plain fell the reign.
Edited version (please delete original).
You have just washed the car? It will rain,
On a picnic? It’s pouring again.
The plants need the showers,
It’s true, we love flowers.
I guess it’s not smart to complain.
An adroit homing pigeon’s rapport
With a woodpecker bloomed and they bore
A bold nestful that roam
But will always come home.
On arrival, they’ll knock on the door.
A rewrite:
Our nasty, old parrot named Gus
Gets mixed-up when he starts to fuss.
His squawks are amiss:
“You can butt my kiss!”
And he’s “crapping the kick” out of us.
When drizzling, wife likes to refrain
From driving; she thinks it’s a pain.
It’s a mist, no big deal.
I’m behind the car’s wheel,
A term that I call Driving Rain.
There once was a young man from Drain
Who said “I’m so sick of this rain
I’m moving to Libya
or maybe Namibia
to live in deep desert terrain!”
NB: Drain is the name of a real town in the Oregon Cascades.
Said James: “It’s against my religion
this calling the Rock Dove a ‘pigeon.’
I’d never abide
that the Audubon Guide
refer to a teal as a wigeon!”
The red-tail was trying to best
A flock of crows guarding their nest.
It managed to nab
An egg with a grab;
Ensuring we’ll have one less pest.
Birdwatching, Lucretia LeClaire,
With ignoble intentions, would stare
At a red-headed pecker.
This peeping nest-wrecker
Enjoyed a wild pecker affair.
An Homage to a favorite song of my teen years, “The MTA” sung by the Kingston Trio. (But it doesn’t quite meet the “rain” requirement)
Poor Charlie! If he had a brain,
He wouldn’t have taken that train
On that sad, fateful day
That the damned MTA
Raised the fare. There, he’s passing again!
I’ve never witnessed such a campaign
That appears to be so very profane
He says she’s lying
And he keeps on trying
To strike her in the jugular vein
FORGOT THE WORD
I’ve never witnessed such a campaign
Concerning who will ultimately reign
He says she’s lying
And he keeps on trying
To strike her in the jugular vein
During the Romanovs’ reign,
Rasputin was heard to complain,
“That German guy, Marx,
Is setting off sparks,
And Vladimir Lenin’s a pain!”
The wheat farmer, desperate for rain,
Lamented the drought and the pain.
His word choice, unprayerful,
In fact, ’twas quite swearful.
The wrath of God went ‘gainst the grain.
This one’s for you, Mad!
The Bernie bird seemed like a sign
That for Sanders the stars would align,
But the voters’ clear will
Was to nominate Hill,
Though his hard-liners still are denyin’.
If in Spain it truly does rain
The town folks should never complain
Their flowers will grow
And surely you know
They always stay mainly in the plain
When t-shirts are dampened by rain,
The contours of flesh become plain.
If fabric’s transparent
A spectator daren’t
Gawk hard to steer clear of eyestrain.
I can always depend on Jane
Even though she is rather plain
Her love knows no season
And that is the reason
She loves me come shine or come rain
Not A Duplicate
If in Spain it truly does rain
The town folks should never complain
Their flowers will grow
And you’ll certainly know
They will stay mainly in the plain
My cat’s name is simply Jane
My dog we call Mark Twain
They vanished from sight
As it turned to night
Then came pouring down with the rain
Turkey Trot ~
Turkeys who stand by the road’ll
Cross quickly when scared by a yodel.
Do chickens make fun
Of these birds on the run?
I’ve heard so, but that’s anecdotal.
Precipitant Persistence ~
Most people who dance to make rain,
Are considered inane or insane,
Because many just stop
Or they’ll dance ‘til they drop,
But until the rain starts, it’s in vain.
A Close Shave ~
The Dark Stormy Knight’s dreadful reign,
Was uneven throughout his domain.
The people all feared
That mustachio and beard,
But like Sampson, once waxed, he would wane.
Copy Writer ~
A woman who swallowed a spider,
Ended up with a bird deep inside her.
She wrote, “How absurd,
To swallow a bird,”
But not first, so the rights were denied her.
The Portly Night Rider ~
The guy had nine deer on his rein,
And they knocked down my old weather vane.
I yelled, “Who’ll clean my roof
In the morning?” Then Poof!
They were gone – just like legerdemain.
Our Pacific Northwest has the rain
That sun-seekers curse out in vain.
But advantages here
Are abundantly clear;
The results can be seen from a plane.
Go away, go away damn rain
Another day will make me insane
The roof is leaking
And the neighbors are peeking
So Bob and I have to abstain
Hillary’s trying to explain
Some problems about her campaign
Now Trump feels so smart
And deep in his heart
He thinks he’s as RIGHT as rain
For Henry the 8th, there was much disdain
His acts of cruelty were inhumane
He beheaded the crimeless
His cruelty was timeless
He had no sense to come in out of the reign
AN IMPROVEMENT ON A LIMERICK
I can always depend on Jane
Even though she is very plain
Her HEART knows no season
And that is the reason
She loves me come shine or come rain
The birds incurred debts they did rue,
And last week the bills had come due.
In the morn, when they ate,
They did not feel too great,
‘Cause the birds had their bills over dew.
FOR THE EUGENE REIGN (women’s rugby team)
Rough and rowdy Reign ruggers, the bane
Of all other gal ruggers from Lane —
When it poured like a flood
All were buried in mud
But no rain ever reined in the Reign
Cheers to Barbara M. and the Eugene Reign:
Here in Bend, we don’t have as much rain
As Eugene, since we’re on a high plain.
But this we can do;
We know how to brew
So your ruggers can wash out the pain.
The Donald is making it plain;
He thinks that he’s ready to reign.
So what if he fails?
From all the hat sales,
His wallet is posting a gain.
RAINING CATS AND DOGS?
My cat’s name is simply Jane
Our dog we call Chewie The Pain
One stormy night
They vanished from sight
Then came gushing down with the pouring rain
Based on my personal experience:
The gardener wore a big scowl,
And emitted an ear-piercing howl.
He had reason to gripe:
Birds ate fruit that was ripe.
‘Twas a crime he considered most fowl.
To tomatoes the birds had been treatin’
Themselves. He refused to be beaten.
Since the gardener’s wise,
A nice plan he’ll devise
To keep birds from his garden of eatin’.
There is little expense he incurred.
Get some net; make a tent; he’s insured
That tomatoes are safe.
While the mockingbirds chafe,
He just smiles and then flips them the bird.
A parrot, apparently spurred
By an urge to repeat all he heard,
Spent a night by the bed
Of a gal. She turned red
When “Oh God! Oh my God!” screamed the bird.
In Donald Trump speeches we’ve heard,
Coherence is merely a word.
Yet, thousands will gather,
Enticed by his blather
Derived from the brain of a bird.
We saw a strange bird in the street.
“That’s a Fake-Crested Trump,” muttered Pete.
“How on earth can you tell?”
I inquired. Pete said, “Well,
It just let out a horrible Tweet.”
My bird-watching uncle admits
His blog would get millions of hits,
Overwhelming his host
Any time he would post
New pictures of boobies and tits.
The “election” of Bush was insane.
And the will of the voters? In vain.
Both his terms were a fizzle.
Let’s call them a “drizzle,”
The word for a very weak reign.
The assignment this week from Mad Kane
Is to compose a limerick with “rain.”
But hard as I try,
I keep coming up dry.
Yet another attempt down the tubes.
The row was about something absurd.
I admit that I used the wrong word
When I mocked how she talked,
And complained that she squawked
Like a parrot. She gave me the bird.
The bird-watcher peered through his glasses,
Believing he’d seen in the grasses
The movement of plovers.
They proved to be lovers;
He stared at two fine, naked asses.
The girl quickly covered her bits
With a towel, and yelled out “Hey, Fritz!
What d’you think you are doing?”
“Dear lady, I’m viewing
A magnificent pair of Great Tits.”
The Silence of Wisdom, Limerick Version –
Wise Old Owl ~ (traditional, a variation)
A wise old owl sat in an oak,
He heard more all the less that he spoke.
“Open ears and large eyes,
He must truly be wise.
We should be more like him – that’s no joke.”
Fishing for an Answer ~
A wise old fish swam in a pond,
He was silent, until from beyond,
A hook hit the water.
He now knows he aughter
Have kept his mouth shut and not yawned.
Brayzen Wisdom ~
An old wise ass stood in the way,
To make sure all heard what he’d say,
He brayed very loud,
And swayed most of the crowd,
But the wisest folks just heard him bray.
Silence is Olden ~
An old man once sat in an Oak,
Some thought, “What a wise, silent bloke.”
Some said, “That’s absurd.
He’s a looney old bird.”
When the tree fell, none heard what he spoke.
Sometimes it just boggles the brain –
The wisdom of queen bees that reign
There’s no ‘king’ to cause wars
Or make girls do the chores
Or get drunk, drop their drawers or complain.
When a bird and a dog had a fight
I could not tell who had the first bite
But an eagle so regal
Made off with a beagle
Who’d eaten a seagull last night.
When the horse’s speed started to gain
I gave a good tug on the rein
Well the damn horse stopped dead
And I flew overhead
And the blood was so red! Oh the pain!
Conservatives like to explain:
When the rich have unlimited gain,
Then Showers of Gold
“Trickle down”, we are told…
Keep telling yourself that it’s rain.
The Orange-Faced Combover Bird
Has plumage that’s truly absurd.
Its mating call’s funny:
“ME, ME! MONEY-MONEY!”
(The sensible females demurred.)
There’s a lady in Key Biscayne
Who liked to run nude in the rain,
Saying she felt so much better
As she got wetter and wetter
And will be doing it again and again.
**********************
An ostrich let out a big sigh
And pleaded with God asking why,
You would want me to stand
With my head in the sand
When I’d love to be able to fly.
I cannot wait until tomorrow
Halloween makes me forget my sorrow
I’ve got the red cape
I’m in very good shape
My bird is dressing up as Zorro.
Mad: I spelled ZORRO wrong!
Sorry
From MBK: Fixed.
There once was an Englishman, Dale,
Desirous of getting some tail.
Had his horniness cured
By a young, nympho bird.
He spent the entire night-in-Gail.
William heard that a gal was quite loose,
So he thought, “She’s a cinch to seduce.”
He believed he’d go far
With the chick at the bar,
So he walked up and gave her a goose.
She slipped off her pants with much ease,
And spread open wide both her knees.
“I’m really quite hot,”
She said. “Rub my twat
With both hands, and me you will please.”
William started to rub horny Jill,
But just then came her husband named Bill.
William flipped him the bird.
Husband’s wrath he incurred,
And his actions were thus: whip-poor-Will.
Middle finger Will upward did push,
So got hit; lost two handfuls of tush.
And I’m sure that you’ve heard
That old saying: A bird
In the hand is worth two in the bush.
A lesson discovered herein,
And much to poor William’s chagrin:
You may think you are slick
When you pick up a chick.
If she’s wed, it’s a cardinal sin.
Here’s a combo, using ‘Birds’ and ‘Rain’
If you pause, you may hear without strain,
The birds’ happy, wild chirping refrain.
They are clearly excited,
And no they can’t hide it,
As they ready themselves for the rain.
Many times I’m sure you’ve heard:
My car window is full of turd!
I have a solution
For this appalling pollution:
Mini diapers for approaching birds
The Donald and Boris together;
Political birds of a feather.
With ego and gall
Setting course above all,
Two hot-air balloons without tether.
Superman flew high in the sky
He collided with a creature and started to cry
What is this being
That I am seeing?
It’s a Chat, Yellow breasted who spit in my eye
NOT A DUPLICATE
For Henry the 8th, there was much disdain
His acts of cruelty were inhumane
He beheaded the crimeless
His wickedness was timeless
And he had not sense to come out of the reign
The Raven’s point of view
Stupid Poe! It was frankly absurd;
I was tired of hearing that word –
“Nevermore! She is dead!”
So I crapped on his head.
You could say that I “gave him the bird.”
Mad: Please correct a typo in my July 3 entry. The fourth line’s first word should be spelled By instead of Buy. Thanx.
From MBK: Done.
If “Early Bird” doesn’t stop cacklin’
I swear I’m gonna whack ’em
Every morn
I’m so forlorn
From lack of sleep and relaxin’
Co-habiting birds saved a ton
Of money and had lots of fun.
The old adage is true,
And you probably knew
That toucan live as cheep as swan.
A Limerick writer named Kane
Loved bathing out in the rain;
When it started to fall
She ran out, baring all
And her washcloth, imported from Spain.
* I hope this rhyme does not offend.
That is not the thing I intend.
I just saw it so plain,
” Kane”‘s a good rhyme for “rain”
I could not help myself, in the end.
NOT A DUPLICATE
If “Early Bird” doesn’t stop cacklin’
I swear I’m gonna whack ’em
I’m so forlorn
In the morn
From lack of sleep and NO relaxin’
Charlemagne had completed his reign
Before Polo’s trans-Asia campaign.
The King of the Franks
Would’ve given Marc thanks,
If he’d lived to have sampled chow mein.
A limerick homage to “MacArthur Park”
The cake got left out in the rain.
And the recipe? Never again
Will I have it, that’s true.
(What’s that mean? Not a clue.
Maybe drugs make the meaning more plain.)
The talk in the town, “She’s Insane,”
And they treat her with abject disdain,
For her long naked walks,
As everyone balks,
But it’s cool hiking nude in the rain.
An insouciant owl, an old coot,
Doesn’t care about others, says, “Shoot,
This bird always weathers
A flock’s ruffled feathers,
‘Cause you see, I just don’t give a hoot.”
Didn’t know that a coot is a duck;
Guess I’m having a string of bad luck.
I was wrong, and to wit,
A mistake I’ll admit.
Does that mean that I’m just a dumb cluck?
Or perhaps my misuse of some words
Will encourage attacks by some nerds
Who will have some good times
As they mock all my rhymes,
And they’ll say that they’re just for the birds.
Irrespective of how my lims suck,
I’ll continue to rhyme with much pluck.
Hope my lims you don’t spurn
When I take a wrong tern.
If you do, I’ll just say, “What the . . . heck!”
For this contest, I’m going insane
When I try for a verse that will reign
But I can’t find the words
So this one’s for the birds
It’s my burden to be a birdbrain.
Yes, the bitch is a dog, we have heard
But some people do not like that word
So they’re bound to all balk
When we talk of the cock
Just relax, that’s the rooster – a bird.
There once was a bird lover, Bren,
Who rescued a freezing young wren.
When her husband would cuss,
She would put up a fuss,
And say, “Please, not in front of the chilled wren!”
There’s a singer whose song’s sad refrain
Tells of love lost, the heartache, the pain
What he does to disguise
All the tears in his eyes
Goes outside and he cries in the rain.
If stepping on spiders brings rain
Then I’ll do it again and again
I’ll go along with
This wonderful myth
‘Cause I hate the damn bugs, they’re a pain!
Regal as she just may feign
Elizabeth simply can’t reign
It’s because all the power
Got transferred, so our
New government’s just as inane.
Hey, how about that? It’s an acrostic!
Now if you plan to grow mary jane
What does it need most – sun or rain?
Well, I have to confess
That I couldn’t care less
‘Cause its smell gives me stress; it’s a pain!
That stuff is a big ball and chain
So don’t give it a lot of free reign
It’ll fry (like corn fritters)
Your neurotransmitters
Where daftness just litters your brain.
Edited:
On life’s merry-go-round I see rain,
Often sunshine, great joy; sometimes pain,
Do I learn as I go?
WilI I want to yell, “whoa!”
When I reach that same spot again?
Once disdained, gals are bra-less again.
Not that I was a one to complain.
The women wear T’s,
To tight, but to please,
And I smile as I wait for the rain.
What just fell against my window pane?
Was that bird poop or fuel from a plane?
Or from flying squirrels pissing?
My glasses are missing
Oh here they are; well, it’s just rain!
An old drunk who drank way too much sherry
Looked in awe at his singing canary
“Oh m’gosh, what the hell?
Is that you, Tinkerbell?”
All that booze made him see a winged fairy.
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Congratulations to our Limerick-Off Award Winner, the BIRD-Themed Limerick Winner, and to the Honorable Mention winners: Limerick-Off Winner 256.
But you can still have limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Bout.