Limerick-Off Monday – Rhyme Word: Doze or Doughs or Does (the Deer kind) at the end of any one line (Submission Deadline: Nov. 7, 2020)
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 Doze or Doughs or Does (the Deer kind) at the end of any one line. (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 DATING, using any rhyme word. And of course I’ll present an extra award — one for the best DATING-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 November 8, 2020, 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, November 7, 2020 at 4:00 p.m. (Eastern Time.)
Here’s my DOZE/DOUGHS/DOES-rhyme limerick:
When I’m trying to sleep and can’t doze,
I count does (and not sheep.) Heaven knows
That I’d rather see deer
Cuz they’re pretty. Don’t sneer;
I know someone who chose counting crows.
And here’s my DATING-themed limerick:
A young woman both lovely and chaste
Was chased by a fellow whose taste
Runs to innocent lasses
Who never wear glasses.
She’s insightful … so he’s unembraced.
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: Animals Poetry, Battle of the Sexes, Bird Limerick, Competition Limerick, Counting Sheep, Crows, Dating Humor, Dating Limerick, Deer Limerick, Insomnia Humor, Insomnia Verse, Limerick Challenge, Limerick Contest, Poetry & Prompts, Sheep, Sleep & Insomnia Humor, Sleep Poetry, Writing Prompts
If you’re an Irish poetical male,
and your rhythm in bed is a Fail,
you must switch to 12/8,
when humping your date,
or you’ll end up in Limerick jail.
The baker’s apprentice made doughs
with way too much yeast. Soon they rose
through the roof of the shop.
They’re ready to pop!
They’re coming this way! There she blows!
You’ve dated some bears and some twinks
and explored all the usual kinks.
It starts out with flirtin’
and ends up with hurtin’.
There’s one thing for certain: love stinks!
Elizabeth moved in with Kate
eighteen hours after their second date.
Soon Kate found out Liz snores
and she won’t help with chores.
She’d dump her, but now it’s too late!
He begged:”Please go out with me, Do!”
“I’d like to show you something new.”
The chap had his fun
Said, when he had done:
“I feel no affection for you.”
My reaction, I know, was the rudest.
You told me my blind date was Buddhist.
When he answered the door
I learned quite a bit more —
You never said he was a nudist!
The erotic baker had foes
They exacerbated his woes
By heating his yeast
Activity ceased
Could not get a rise from his doughs
I”m tired down to my toes
Exhausted this morn when I rose
Lie down and then cough
My mind won’t turn off
Sometimes when I try to doze
He’s flashing his eyes like a doe’s
But he never gave me a rose
Just read me some lines
From Burma Shave signs
He thought he could win me with prose?
On the night Daylight Savings Time goes,
There’ll be some who sleep in, I suppose —
But my four hungry catsies
Are surely no patsies,
And I’ll get no free time to doze.
“Who, me — date?!” thought the baker; “I’ll wait” —
But COVID, alas, sealed his fate:
Stuck at home with his doughs,
His weight steadily rose,
And his buns are, alas, out of date.
“Carbon dating?” “It gives it you straight.
Take Joan Collins—” “I thought she was ‘late’.”
“No. She looks forty-two,
But between me and you,
In real time, she’s a hundred and eight.”
Oh, oops, Mad,what I meant was this:
“Who, me — date?!” thought the baker; “I’ll wait” —
But COVID-19 sealed his fate:
Stuck at home with his doughs,
His weight steadily rose,
And his buns are, alas, out of date.
Time was, you could dance at a ball,
See a play, wine and dine, have it all —
But what’s dating today
(In the new COVID way)?
Sitting home on a video call.
“Sleepy Joe’s in a permanent doze”,
Donald sneers, but his nose grows and grows
Right in front of our eyes
As he spews out his lies,
Till it’s longer than Pinnochio’s.
I couldn’t resist my last date;
Oh, what a delectable bait!
So tender, so young,
And so sweet on my tongue …
I left only the pit on my plate.
How old is the President’s brain?
Carbon-dating may help to explain
Why it’s millions of years,
For it’s stuffed with ideas
That go back to the dinosaurs’ reign.
Said the Godfather, “Plenty of dough’s
What that mob-skimming baker now owes,
So just knead him a bit
Till you get him to fit
In his oven, then bake till he glows.”
Too long for the “A” train I’ve waited
On an evening far less than “B”-rated:
The movie he chose
Made both of us doze;
No dinner; I’m feeling “C”-dated.
I laid down on the couch, off I dozed.
When I woke, to my wife I disclosed:
Taking naps, you can see,
Is so easy for me
I can do it with both my eyes closed.
In class, do your consummate best.
Cuz surely, it’s no time to rest.
For if you should doze,
And sit in repose,
Goodness gracious! You wont’ pass the test.
Oops!
Mad: above limerick…..line four, I typed “And sit it repose”
Could you please change it to And sit in repose,
Thank You,
Lisi
*******
Done.
The “net” always gives me the chills.
When I’m looking for fabulous thrills.
Wanna date a cool guy
Who just makes me sigh
And he mustn’t have Photoshop skills.
He has a set type, my friend Ben:
he exclusively dates older men.
A silver-haired guy
puts a gleam in his eye —
soon he’s up to his old tricks again!
If your goal is to find a good mate,
Don’t use Tinder to search for a date.
Those hours wasted on typing
And “liking” and “swiping”
Would be much better spent losing weight.
I bake brownies with mystery doughs.
What’s my secret? I’ll never disclose
It. But you might detect
What provides the effect
If you bother to sniff with your nose.
In the church he started to doze
As the sermon droned on full of woes
His wife shamed to the core
As he started to snore
Pinched his belly and stomped on his toes.
Two large bucks fought for Lord only knows
For the right to command all the does
While a scrawny old buck
Who knew how to fuck
Screwed then all and then took his repose.
Once I dated a fiery Peruvian
whose temper was simply Vesuvian.
He flew into a rage
when I asked him his age
(which I’m certain was antediluvian.)
While each early voter just knows
the undecided voter did doze
through the last half-a-year.
Now they just woke to steer
so November 3rd anything goes.
If the does (as in doesn’t) ain’t does
(as in deer) I must ask, I suppose,
If some cause may be caws,
And its pause give us paws,
Is a rose (not in rows) still a rose?
Tell me, when do you use the word “doughs”?
When they’re pizza and cookie? Who knows?
Are they cash, as in when
You use dollars plus yen?
Mad likes keeping us all on our toes.
Since I need, and consume, tons of doughs,
Ground from nuts, seeds, or grains — ALL of those!
I will lug on my back
An immense flour sack,
Bake what’s in it, then use it for clothes.
“Rutting season is with us tha’ knows,
An’ them stags will be stagin’ their shows.
All them does’ll make eyes,
And repeated, My mys;
Seems they never will learn, dozy does.”
Covid Test
The line at “Doc” Smith’s grows and grows.
It’s so long, you will see patients doze.
They take a Q-tip
You hope it won’t slip.
Then they stick it right up in your nose.
“What’s all this, then, if anyone knows?
I’ve seen squirrels and rabbits – there goes
A deer and a hare –
And a kangaroo there!”
“It’s a feminist chapter of does.”
“In bread making I like the slow doughs;
Fermentation allowing for doze.
Sourdough must take hours
To develop its powers,
But with yeast you are kept on your toes.”
“What – at my age? No-o-o – dating is out!
All my looks have gone west and I’m stout.
Add to that that my drive
Has declined to survive …
Sorry, what were we talking about?”
Mad, I have seen the error of my ways and repented.
“In bread making, I like the slow doughs;
Fermentation so slow it seems froze’.
Sourdoughs must take hours
To develop their powers,
But use yeast and you’re kept on your toes.”
I had such a terrible dream
‘Bout dating a man with esteem.
And then upon waking,
My body was aching,
Since my soul mate is really ice cream.
A better version of “Covid Test” to make more sense
The line at “Doc” Smith’s grows and grows.
It’s so long, you will see patients doze.
When you get your Q-tip,
(And hope it won’t slip)
His nurse sticks it right up your nose.
The pies that are baked by Aunt Rose
Have ingredients nobody knows.
Rosie sure has that “touch”
Tells me only this much:
“Pinch of dis. Pinch of dat. In my doughs.
It’s been driving him out of his wits
That he’s dating a gal with great tits.
Now, I give you my word
I refer to the bird
(Though it’s true that her bod never quits).
Speed Dating
“I have never been one to complain.
I learned early; one grumbles in vain.
I, myself, tend to doze,
When subjected—” “Time froze.
By the by, for the record, I’m Jane.”
I’ve just noticed that the one above is a twofer. I have been inadvertant.
“Look at granddad, that wasp on his nose!”
“Oh, it always does that. Let him doze!”
“Won’t it hurt if it stings?”
“No, wasps don’t feel such things;
But it might spoil your granddad’s repose.”
Sorry, the fourth line was way off.
“Look at granddad, that wasp on his nose!”
“Oh, it always does that. Let him doze!”
“Won’t it hurt if it stings?”
“No, the wasp stings and wings;
But it might spoil your granddad’s repose.”
“When you say, ‘Are we dating?’ I’m fazed.
More than that, I am truly amazed.
We’ve been at it non-stop,
Save for trips to the shop –
And that time when we went to O’Shea’s.”
To her date she said, “Kissing spreads germs.”
Then she added, “Eve’s apple had worms.”
She claimed dancing a risk,
And warned, “Sex is too brisk.”
The date ended there — on her own terms.
If your date orders real pricey food,
You’ll be angry and then you will brood.
But don’t feel real blue.
There’s just one thing to do:
Send her home. She’s no good. Don’t get screwed.
Found a date for you, (Boy! she’s unique)
She’s outgoing and never is meek.
Her name’s Isabella.
You’ll be one lucky ‘fella.
And she’s due for release in one week.
When baking bread, or culling deer
Semantics normally doesn’t appear.
Is there only one dough and multiple does
This is a question that I do pose
And the answer I’m quite keen to hear?
The same question of money and H. Simpson as well,
Do I need a thesaurus to help me to spell?
Do we have lots of dough and lots of doh’s
Is there an answer that anyone knows?
If you know, please please do tell.
For Tim Gray:
When it comes to the making of doughs
They are many and varied. Here goes:
Some are mixed grain, some plain;
Some enriched, then again,
Some are sweet – most are not. Now tha’ knows.
And regarding the matter of does …
Seems Ma Nature has many of those.
Kangaroo – who’d have thought?
Hare and rabbit – lives fraught –
Misses squirrel and rat; so it goes.
I suppose I’d best make this official, Tim. Since the girls decline to play – just like school again, eh? – you’re my new muse. (No need to thank me.)
Like Poet Laureate, the position is purely honourary, which, as I’m sure you know, means it’s unpaid and of limited duration. (Yes, I’m hoping the girls will come to their senses.)
I would appreciate it if you could use simpler words – ‘Semantics’? ‘Thesaurus’? – are almost impossible to rhyme and make sense. (What were you thinking?)
Anyway, I shall leave you to come to terms with your new status and I look forward to your next.
PS. Just so you know, our relationship will be purely Platonic. I’m not that sort of poet, by which I mean, who makes free with his muse. (Bet you’re glad we got that out of the way.)
And returning again to our doughs,
Then the wetter the better, tha’ knows.
Takes more skill to perfect
But that’s sure to reflect
In the taste and the texture; it shows.
“If I wanted to add to my woes,
I’d try dating – old stag amongst does.
Sixteen points – Monarch me;
Yes, I’m something to see,
But the lasses? Too quick on their toes.”
At the Meeting of Minds, though I doze,
I’m the note-taker whom they all chose.
But with droning so deadly —
a slow, dirge-like medley —
I fear that I may decompose.
A chaste young lady from Mumbai
Seeks not a stud, but a fun guy
Her new date called Bill
Took the famous blue pill
Feels now she’s rather hard done by
When I first started dating young Pam,
She was tight, with a new diaphragm.
But then age took its toll;
They both got a big hole.
There’s no fun. There’s a child. Oh goddam.
How could someone just lie in repose
And miss all those wonderful shows?
The mountains were grand
In the old Borscht Belt land.
But Rip only wanted to doze.
“Our Time” .Com Dating after 50
“Our Time”? Let’s get real. It ain’t so.
It’s a site for a date, (when you’re slow).
At 50 or more
It’s not easy to score,
Cause our time was a long time ago.
“Our Time” Dating After 50: version two (a true web site for dating over 50)
“Our Time”? Let’s get real. It ain’t so.
It’s a site for a date, (when you’re slow)
So if 50 or more,
And you just cannot score,
Skip the sex, and just take in a show.
Those Omaha folks didn’t doze;
Donny’s rants had them deep in the throes
Of a fever. Alack!
There was no bus ride back.
What a pity. Their asses all froze.
A Drink With Jam And Bread
I love to see all of the shows.
The actors are always such pros.
And when I have tea,
I call myself me,
And belt out a song about does.
better
How could someone just lie in repose,
And miss all those comedy shows?
The mountains are grand
In that old Borscht Belt land.
But Rip only wanted to doze.
Because Homer is led by his nose,
It’s off for pink donuts he goes.
Folks out and about
Without doubt hear him shout —
“Hey, gimme three dozen o’ dohs!”
A guy wants a date just to screw’er.
A girl wants a guy who will woo’er.
She wants someone with class.
He wants a good ass.
Doesn’t care if she works in the sewer.
Somnolence will be seen in all does
That have eaten our home-made sour-doughs.
They seem very tired
Because they are wired
To get well by having a short doze.
I’d be trumped if I dated Ivanka.
Not a girl after whom I would hanker.
If she asked me for fun
I’d be certain to run
When I’d made enough time just to thank her.
Said Lord Smithers, “I’m bored. I confess.
I’m not thrilled by a lady’s caress.
And I have a long doze
When I see furbelows;
And I don’t mean those things on a dress.”
She’s one of those profligate does,
Spending money wherever she goes.
When she’s out around town
She gains widespread renown
‘Cause of all of the bucks that she blows.
Oops! please delete previous (word “the” missing from 2nd verse)
(4 verses)
He made bread (after kneading the doughs),
Then baked ‘em and stacked ‘em in rows
In an old wooden shed
with a fridge and a bed
where he drank to forget all his woes.
He awoke to a fire in the night
the smell was no Bakers Delight,
In a daze from his doze
in his shed (with no hose)
he could not believe this sad sight.
Regretting his somnolent doze,
and lamenting the death of his doughs
with an acrid aroma
that could induce a coma,
saw it all tumble down as flames rose.
In the heat of the moment he froze,
then (fully awake from his doze)
he concocted some lies
now insurance denies
compensation, “This claim’s on the nose”!
Polly Amorous: Dating: Today:
“James was boring, but Sidney … okay.
Laughed with Peter and Dud.”
“Lars?” “A stick in the mud.”
“Dave?” “I’m seeing him later. Here’s Ray!”
Polly Amorous: Dating: This Week:
“I’ve discovered most men are too meek.
Whether stripling or hunk,
I prefer men with spunk,
And a dash of the pirate – and cheek!”
For Tony Holmes
Tony, thanks for your views,
You clearly like to a-muse.
When I word-search “Doughs”
All I get back are dough’s
So the singular plural I’ll choose.
Her virginity wasn’t to waste.
A dilemma with which she was faced:
Getting men to agree
To still date, so that she
Would be chased, and yet still could be chaste.
In the city, I’ve heard there are those
Who say, “Deer have a breathtaking pose”
But here in the sticks,
We get real pesky ticks,
And pay hit men to whack all them does.
Dr. Sleep roused the world with his prose,
Citing spellbinding states of repose.
He proved sheep need no sleep pill —
They simply count people!
His next book? “Why Do Bulldozers Doze?”
Doze and Dating (double)
On a date, guys will surely not doze.
Till they find out just what she’ll disclose.
‘Bout getting real lucky.
(Does she think that I’m yucky)?
Wants to know what she already knows.
I’m pursuing a cute intellectual
but my wooing has proved ineffectual.
Is he straight? Is he gay?
Could he go either way?
Or maybe he’s simply asexual.
Our town council is taking some flack
and folks want to give them the sack.
Since so many oppose
their plan to shoot does
a target’s been placed on their back.
I feel that a date is ideal,
When it has a specific appeal.
I don’t go out a lot,
But a date hits the spot,
When I’m yearning to have a good meal.
This flows better
In one of those time-honored shows,
Julie Andrews will ever disclose:
That she likes to drink tea.
Also calls herself, “Me”.
And of course, sings a song about does.
And reading the one above, I see some mistakes. slight correction:
In one of those time-honored shows,
Julie Andrews will ever disclose:
That she loves to drink tea;
Likes to call herself, “Me”
And sing a sweet song about does.
His blow-up dolls just didn’t rate.
Now he’s got a new gal, and she’s great.
She’s alluring and sweet,
With all functions complete.
She’s an android that’s quite up to date.
Outside, there’s a quartet of does;
Just lying there – that’s how it goes.
This season of mating,
They’re participating
By passing the buck when he shows.
A mathematician is rating
The colleague he’d like to be dating.
His analysis said
He could take her to bed;
But she can’t think he’s too calculating.
The first date is sort of “tradition”
Don’t mention a crude “proposition”
Remember that rule,
So she’ll think you are cool.
Just think of it as an “audition”
It happened while out on a date;
She ran into ex-husband Nate.
The gal by his side
Was so ugly and wide
Who farted – which summed up his fate.
Rip van Winkle awoke from his doze,
“I’m so hungry” he said, “heaven knows!”
Then he looked at his hair,
“Whaaat! How’d you get there?
My beard now goes down past my toes.”
A fun dating idea came to Shirl,
so she thought she would give it a whirl.
Her plan for this lark:
Shirl meets boy in park,
then boy gets to park meat in Shirl.
His date looked demure and so shy,
he was stunned by her beauty, – no lie.
When she let him caress,
with his hand up her dress,
he quickly found out she’s a guy!
He totally stuffed up the chat
with his date (in tight jeans and a hat).
Though the prompt for his pass,
was her gob-smacking ass,
he should Never have mentioned her twat!
Fellow pris’ners just loved Auntie Rose,
Who baked nutraloaves all in rows.
Although feeling depraved,
Rosie slaved and she slaved,
Till one day, fell asleep in her doughs.
Mad: above limerick: Could you please change “cooked’ to baked in L2
Thank you, Lisi
*************
Done.
Hi Mad,
I’ve just noticed I left the ‘at’ out of the third line in Rip van Winkle on November 4, 2020 at 9:01 pm, could you put one in, (he looked at…)
Cheers
*********
Done.
To present his proposed new workflows
Mister Smith downed a bunch of No-Doz
Two days up, and confused,
His team stared, unamused,
At his dick pics mixed in the slideshows
A question that I’d like to pose,
which I’m sure more than one person knows,
is: Does a stag doze
after doing his does,
or libido provide him more goes?
The wedding was great; 50 rows!
We just knew that the groom would propose.
The croissants were delish!
And those rolls, what a dish!
Congrats to The Pop and Fresh Doughs!
To The Voters Of America
Democratically speaking, you’ve taken a dump
And the motion you’ve passed is called Donald J Trump.
Much like passing a pinecone through piles in a rush,
We must hope that, defeated, he’ll give in and flush.
I realise that this is way off-piste, but given that a great day is in the offing, I hope I may be permitted to share in the celebrations – and forgiven. FYI, ‘piles’ are Britsh slang for haemorrhoids.
Democratically speaking, you’ve dumped!
So, congrats to you voters! Still pumped?
Like a pinecone through piles –
In GB, ‘Farmer Giles’ –
In one motion you’re rid. He’s been Trumped!
I did attempt a limerick before posting the poem, but it didn’t quite get there, as you can see.
After three nights when few friends dared doze,
Biden’s figures in two key states rose.
45 tries to fight,
But his end is in sight,
And we’ll slumber tonight… I suppose.
In for a penny …
Democratically speaking, you’ve taken a dump
And the motion you’ve passed is called Donald J Trump.
Much like passing a pinecone through piles in a rush,
We must hope he won’t linger; just give in, and flush.
It’s just occured to me that this might squeeze in under dating – as in, “We’re dating the new era from the recent Presidential Election result.” Worth a try.
Almost done with the ‘Yeas’ and the ‘Nos’;
Just which way it will go no one knows.
Please, elect Forrest Gump –
Let’s have done with D Trump –
And if not, take your pick of John Does.
Mix by hand, stay in touch with your doughs
And remember, one reaps what one sows.
Automation is fine
But someday, down the line,
When the power is cut off, old hand knows.
One of M N’s delights, is a dump.
Never more than when passing a Trump.
Democratically done,
Motion passed – no rerun.
It’s a date he’ll remember – the chump.
I can finally post this…
I awoke from a wonderful doze;
I dreamed victory fin’lly was Joe’s.
‘Twas a big f#%&ing deal.
Wait a minute! It’s REAL?
I’m delighted clear down to my toes!
I ain’t fond of the process called dating,
And just wanna get down to the mating.
I crave babies aplenty,
Say eleven or twenty,
Cuz I know I’m a pro at creating.
Your wee darlings glue things to my toes,
And put coins up my schnoz when I doze.
Now I fear for my hair!
It just doesn’t seem fair
That for love I must pay through the nose.
My experience dating is meager.
I’m awkward and overly eager.
I DON’T know the right moves,
And WHAT are these “night moves”?
You’re NOT friggin’ helping, Bob Seger!
Thanks so much everyone for another fun two weeks of limericks. This Limerick-Off is officially over. And the winner is…
Limerick-Off Award 456. Congratulations to the winners!
But you can still have lots of limerick fun because a new Limerick-Off has just begun: Limerick-Off Spell.