A macho magician named Steve
There was a time when I did a lot of
posting on a Poetry & Story Board,
where a "Topic of the Week" was suggested as
a theme for each week's postings.
One week the topic was "Magic."
Well, for no particular reason, I was
in the mood for composing limericks that week -
so I posted the silliness you see below.
Used to hide many things up his sleeve.
He once took a chance,
Hid a rat in his pants -
Now he sounds like his wife Genevieve.
An abusive magician named Ed
Used to stick a fake knife in his head.
His wife, on a whim
Gave a steak knife to him,
And his widow looks lovely in red.
A sorcerer high on a hill
Said, "My tub with water I'll fill."
But he sent this dumb mouse
That he found 'round the house
Then said, "That damned Disney I'll kill!"
A magician's assistant named Dee
Said her boss with his hands was too free.
She replaced in his hat
One rabbit with rat
With less fingers he now lets her be.
A sorcerer over the hill
Said "My dreams I now will fulfill."
He then cast a spell
On his trainee named Nell
But yawned when his wand just lied still.
A hungry old gypsy named Faye
Had a client who just wouldn't pay.
She cast him a spell,
He started to jell,
And went well with bananas that day.
A horny old gypsy named May
Had a stud for a client one day.
She said, "Look in my eyes..."
Then did hypnotize.
That boy's still her toy to this day
A nasty old witch named Lucille
Decided some children to steal.
But their video games
Blew her brain into flames.
Now she can't keep her broomstick on keel.
A nearsighted witch full of wine
Flew into a high tension line.
The birds were surprised
When she just vaporized.
But the birdies are now feeling fine.
(And flying a little higher.)
This nymph, who would one day be queen
Had kissed every frog she had seen.
She had plenty of love,
But, heavens above,
Died of old age at nineteen.
To the fairest of fair Gwenevere
Staying virginal was her great fear.
This frog in the mud,
When kissed, turned to stud,
Sighing, "My dear - would Boy George be near?"
One week the topic was BIRTH,
so I contributed the following...
I find that I'm rolling in mirth
To think there might be on this earth
A word that is worth
My rhyming with birth
Except maybe pregnancy's girth.
Another week the topic was SPRING...
A restless young housewife named Spring
Would clean out her house every spring.
While clearing the house,
She'd toss out her spouse
And look for a guy with more spring.
And finally, this...
My limericks were written in haste.
You say they were done in bad taste?
If a limerick's too nice
And lacking in spice,
Then reading it's really a waste.
© Donald Ray Edrington