Under the big tent Sally's circus came alive
Cotton candy lady gave the first clown a vibe
She grabbed his hands, too sweet
Her marching bands in heat
One clown in the bush is worth two acts to arrive

Logan Robertson

9/16/2020

I could never compose a #Limerick
Attempting in vain I grew sick
Trying to get the rhyme scheme A A B B A
And scribble incoherent verses everyday
In vain, to the good ol' free verse, shall I stick!

The duck is a curious creature
who has one astonishing feature;
she speeds up when excited,
crescendos, delighted,
and, if you're a grape, she might eatcha.

I knew a young lady of seventeen,
who harboured a great love for nepheline.
She'd use what she found
of these rocks from the ground
to fling through her ex-boyfriend's car windscreen.

There was a young woman in quarantine
Who found ******* to be obscene
But bored as time went by
Her love for coffee would die
And now she's roasting her own bean

Le Cordon Bleu sommelier in the know
Discussed wine pairing with patrons aglow
"What does your order include?"
"Roast turducken frankenfood"
"Then I recommend a dry Portmanteau!"


© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.

A Wouldn’t Object Limerick

for a few reasons to objectify,
peddle her a pedestal to request
a little eyeliner, some mascara,
actual clothes of non-athletic wear lineage,
cease and desist with daily loon of lulu-ness;
dare not suggest some lipstick or heaven forbid,
a piece of jewelry sparkle, lest I be trussed
and tested, returned to the closet to join
my fella sweatpants of graying demeanor,
of colorless pallor
and
smelly familiarity

Lost in my writing you peered
Left me my devices but neared
She wanted to know
How I love her so
But she doesn’t know what I’ve cleared

She wanted a poem to her
And out this one came in a blur
And yet she won’t know
How I love her so
For previous ones I am sure

I hope she can see what I see
How she’s so important to me
Just please let her know
That I love her so
And how my heart belongs to just she