RotorHead, I’m afraid to guess
Your landmass is soon to be blessed
By Isabelle’s visitation
Which may change your location
To 76North 37West
On this landmass we cower and shake
Izzy scares us, and make no mistake.
Yeah, the East Coast is scared
But we’re getting prepared.
Well…at least there won’t be an earthquake.
The Rotorhead has gone askew
He’ll miss us all; we’ll miss him, too
But he’ll be back: we all have hope
There’s no seceding from The Dope!
In the hurricane’s face, yes, we cower
Stunned and awed by its terrible power.
We are humbled, in shock
At raw Nature amok
Yet she’s Mother as well of the flower.
EddyTeddyFreddy, a username of male names three.
Yet from earlier posts do I conclude that you’re really a she?
Here in the heartland, no hurricane do we fear.
Yet tornados send us to the cellar nearly every year.
But the thing that is worst,
Involves a simple little thirst.
For to truly run amok is to run out of beer.
From the cellar my cats will come out:
Ed, Ted, Fred: orange-striped, with white snout.
They were males till the vet
Eunuchized them. And yet
EdTedFred] is a she without doubt.
Sophie, Sylvia – sisters – are black;
So’s Serena. With buff orange back
And white paws: Veggie Boys!
Squash and Pumpkin – love toys!
That’s my eight. Yes, I am a bit cracked.
I usually try to have tact,
But dear handyman, it is a fact
That your moon’s shining bright,
Oh, so rounded and white
But unfortunately, a bit cracked!
A handyman[/y] you can depend on
Is a treasure! A guy you can send on
A job, big or small
Hang a door! Paint the hall!
Handyman, put your magical mend on.
The magical Lord Voldemort
Enjoyed killing muggles for sport.
But then Harry Potter
Turned him to an otter,
Which left him without a retort.
A gallant young fish in the water
Played naughty games with the daughter
Of a mammal - “Oh No!”
All the neighbors would go.
“Stick to your own kind, you otter!”
Great Gallant Fox once was a foal
Who rather would gallop than stroll.
Thoroughbred for the track
Bright-silked jockey on back
Running fast as he passed every pole.
To the seafood restaurant we would gallop
For the chance to eat a fresh scallop
But it caused me to act –
Aphrodisiac!
The night ended feeling my pal up.
Upon swallowing an aphrodisaic
One can turn into a Dionysiac.
But avoid being lewd -
In fact, best be a prude
If you want to end up an Elysiac!
There once was a man from Nantucket
With an eye as big as a bucket
His limerick fix (sinnish)
Was nearly his finish
'Til finally he shouted, ‘Aw shuck it.’
Wait-wrong page
There once was a lewd Dionysiac
who swallowed a huge aphrodisiac
The chicks couldn’t run
From him fast enough, son,
Though now he could vault himself fro and back
But the aphrodisiac failed
Soon after it made him prevail
The size once more
was just like before
And all the ladies exhaled
Amusing, dopetalker – but check the first page for the rules of the linking game. Meanwhile, I’ll continue the game with the last link word:
Though limericks often are lewd,
With double entendres, or crude,
This game is much milder
Instead of much wilder,
In here, you won’t find it blue-hued.
When you have kids who are double
You’ll find that you have lots of trouble.
The best way to avoid
Tricks to make you annoyed
Is to seal each one in his own bubble.
A thick double burger I crave
For a shake of vanilla I’d rave
But meat I do eschew
And milk does make me spew
So against unfulfilled desires I’ll be brave
The beverage that helps me digest
Is often found in a breast
When cookies I bake
My thirst I do slake
With a glass of milk; it’s the best!