For Declan
There once was a fellow named D.
he had misunderstood little me.
Though his poems ain't bad
and he is a good lad
so let pax for the two of us be.
So this limerick was writ just to say
that in life it is better to play
than to act like two farts
who would hurl poisoned darts
let me know if it's Aye or Nay.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Frog In The Log
There once was a handsome green frog
who resided inside an old log.
He had cut two small vents
in the log for defense
but the stork used, as cover, the fog.
And he swallowed the frog in the buff
though just one frog was never enough
for a frog in a log
who can't see in the fog
daily life can be utterly tough.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Why Switch (In Answer To Member EP)
I was asked to be clear and explain
why the switch, was there something to gain?
Yes, the clutter was bad
it can drive a guy mad
a new home always lessens the pain.
To elaborate further dear D
moving here means that that's where I'll be.
In the old hunting ground
I can also be found and if not I am up in my tree.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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My New Computer (Limerick)
Just got finished (some help from a tutor)
hooking up to the net the computer,
somewhat clumsy of hand
though I did understand
this thing beats the old roto-rooter.
Now the screen is a 24 size
the small letters as big as blowflies.
And no gremlins in sight
so I bid you good night
may the gods bless my overworked eyes.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Sixty-Nine (Limerick)
After drinking a bottle of wine
while conversing with Englebert Klein,
Miss Fellaziobelle slurred
a most out of place word
and it sounded like sixty-nine.
Mister Klein, an accountant by trade,
was a nerd who had never been laid.
Said, my dear let us stop
I will never talk shop
and we're switching to lemonade.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Professional Limerick
The Podiatrist Oliver Frist
knew Psychiatrist Frederick Liszt,
when they met at the Pub
in their favourite Club,
the Podiatrist truly got pissed.
Said the one who is known as the Shrink:
This is certainly strange and I think
that a Foot Doctor's nose
would be right on its toes
though it's likely that liquor don't stink.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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No Oil (Limerick)
As the Yanks conquer foreign soil
all the tension rise up to a boil.
Let democracy reign
in Andorra and Spain,
and the Arabs can drink all their oil.
We are now on the brink, mark my words,
to fly airplanes and cars just like birds.
An old Kraut has unveiled
that the oilmen have failed,
we can run all our engines on turds.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Just Another Limerick
There once was a copper named Drake,
he was searching the board for a snake
but the snake stuck around
and was thus never found.
Could it be that this Drake is a fake?
He is hiding and may just be snoozing.
No one finds this inaction amusing.
If he doesn't proceed
with a head choppin' deed
we will soon be just silently boozing.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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La Seine
There once was a fellow named Harris,
a comedian whose wife was called Clarice.
They performed on a stage
with old Rolf in a cage
and she took him (so clever) to Paris.
On the top of the Eiffel Tower
when the clock struck the twenty-third hour,
he was left in the rain
looking down on the Seine
but he really had needed the shower.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Mississippi Limerick
On the raft down the Mississippi
were the wife and her husband Hippie.
When they brought back the melons
from the striped, shackled felons
they soon sank and the water was nippy.
But they had, for the voyage, prepared
and that is why both of them fared
rather well in the end
and this limerick was penned
so the story could truly be shared.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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