Limericks are one of my favorite forms of poetry. They’re short, fun to write, and are usually meant to be humorous. (They were also my go-to distraction in school when I had trouble paying attention in class.)
Limericks are five lines long, and these are the number of syllables in each line:
Try writing your own! They’re fun to write and read aloud because they have a catchy rhythm. The number of syllables doesn’t have to be exactly what I’ve given above. You could have 8 in the first line and 5 instead of 6 in one of the middle lines. What matters is the rhythm. You’ll be able to hear if it sounds right. Here are some of mine:
There is a girl in Zimbabwe
Who bought a new toilet today
She put her head in
To see what was within
And whoosh! She was flushed away.
A man who thought he was really cool
Decided he was much too smart for school
He said, “Know it I do
One plus three equals two
That proves for sure I’m no fool!”
I used to think math was no fun
Till I saw how much I could get done
So now I write poems
While the teacher drones
And now I enjoy math a ton.
A plant of diminutive size
Felt sure he would meet his demise
He started to cry
Said, “Surely I’ll die!”
He could not photosynthesize.
There once was a poor little sheep
And all he could do was weep
For it must be confessed
He failed his math test
And his A he would no longer keep.
There once was a green and speckled frog
Who hated doing math ’cause of logs
Each time that he’d fail
He’d let out a wail
And try to drown himself in a bog.
I feel like drinking a cup of tea
Perhaps watching ships sail by the sea
I want to close my eyes
Tilt my head to the sky
And just soak in that salty sea breeze.
Lenin’s mood was quite sour
He waited until the right hour
He said, “Let us rise!”
So it was no surprise
That the Bolsheviks soon came to power.
Lenin cried to the awaiting crowd,
“All power to the Bolsheviks, now!
“We must overthrow
“We cannot be slow!”
The response could be heard clear and loud.
Lenin was feeling insecure
So he had the Cheka instill terror
The secret police
It did not use peace
But methods of violence and torture.
There once was a boy named Michael
And all he would do was recycle
He was so obsessed
He just wouldn’t rest
Until the end of his life cycle.