My partner this morning was brilliant.
His presence to me is a titillant.
His predawn arousal
inspires this espousal
of his lovemaking prowess most diligent.
There once was a woman from Hyde
Who ate a green apple and died
The apple fermented
Whilst in the lamented
And made cider inside her inside.
A topic debated vociferously
is the question of one’s sexuality.
Some people condemn
people different from them
using variance as culpability.
“Tis known that gay people are evil
their behavior inspired by the devil.”
Fundies are liable
to reach for their Bible,
forgetting Christ’s words of high level:
“Do unto others as you
would have others do unto you.”
Judge not lest thee be judged
and thy character smudged,
And then name-calling you will eschew.
Lest my limericks be misunderstood
be advised, my intentions are good.
Though the art form is “low”
I mean only to show
we should love one another; we should!
A fellow named Dave from Nantucket
kept eleven brass balls in a bucket.
He used to have twelve,
but (amusing himselve)
he lost a ben-wa where he stuck it.
By Lord Morgan, the First of a Short Line of the Not-Yet Illustrious.
There once was a young man from Boston.
Who went out for a ride in his Austin.
There was room for his ass,
and a gallon of gas.
But his balls hung out and he lost them.
There was a young man of Devizes,
Whose balls were of two different sizes.
The one was so small
'Twas no ball at all,
But the other one won several prizes.
As played by the phantoms of Shrewl,
Midnight football is both eerie and cruel.
If a team kicks a ghost
Through the other’s goal post
It gets credit for scoring a ghoul.
There was a young fellow named Rex
With diminutive organs of sex.
When charged with exposure,
He replied with composure,
De minimis non curat lex.
The limerick is furtive and mean.
You may keep it in close quarantive,
But it sneaks to the slums,
And quickly becomes,
Disorderly, drunk and obscene.
To the member who’s called jti
the limericks you posted were sly
To gain Latin knowledge
I took it in college
but learned just enough to get by.
While this limerick fest is addicting
I will with regret be predicting
that if I continue
to post in this venue
my versing will be self-convicting.
My giggles I barely could stifle,
Reading Spider’s lim’ricks delightful.
Tho’ my Latin is rough,
This should be enough:
“Law doesn’t worry 'bout trifles.”
I swore to myself I was done
penning limericks (although they are fun)
but the rhymes in my head
will not be gainsaid
TN*hippie, look what you’ve begun.
Spider,
The first time I posted that verse
Spelling was bad, grammar was worse.
The Dopers went to it,
And when they were through it,
My Latin was suitably terse:
There was a young man from Australia
Who painted his arse like a dahlia.
The drawing was fine,
The colours divine!
The scent – ah, that was a failure.
My weekend was filled with such fun,
But alas, it too quickly is done;
Then Monday’s highlight,
was the belated sight,
Of a compliment passed by tradesilicon. 
An artform invented for men,
The limerick is all too often,
Bypassed by fair maid,
But exception is made,
By the l_frenette_vannurden.
That Doper named matt’s quite a pickle -
His lim’ricks make me hysterical.
'Though he gets my name right,
And I try w’th’all my might -
Is it “matt M-C-L” or “matt mcl”?
There once was a Norse god named Loki
Who ruled the world’s chaos and disorder,
And because of this trait of his
It only makes sense
That this limerick doesn’t scan or rhyme.
Esprix
To the Hippie I must tip my hat
Starting this thread, but not only that
He has kept in line
By checking in time from time
Then escaped to the beach, how 'bout that?
In the weekend which ended last night
I have found yet another delight
At Lake Tahoe’s North Shore
There was dining galore
And the view was indeed out of sight!
This thread is just way too much fun
That my housework will never get done
These limericks outrageous
are oh so contagious
I simply can’t stop at just one.
SouthernStyle is back into the fray
and I must say that he made my day.
And jti’s rhyming
was very fine timing.
They have quite a touch with wordplay.
But, this reason I thought of to stay
From this versing, “Tis dangerous!” I say.
With this posting poetical
T’will be antithetical
To write in a prosaic way.
A Woman referred to as “Spider”,
was showering at home when I spied her;
Quoting limericks by dope,
As she applied soap,
I mused to myself, “yeah, I’d ride her”.