The unappreciated limerick

Had we but world enough and time,
We'd make love without censure or crime.
We'd enjoy the sweet pleasure,
But in equal measure,
Abhor loss of a Marvellous rhyme!
 
I’ve caught a virus, adeno-
Corona- or maybe a rhino-
Whatever the issue
I’m using up tissue
Excuse me, my nose needs a blow
 
I maybe just ought to think
Is it OK to write ‘bout that kink?
I know that some worry
From my stories they scurry
Because of the fluids I drink
 
Let it be known
Far and wide
You won't need cologne
For the smell, you will abide
You see, my shit isn't prone
To stink, my dear Clyde
 
Em worries that she'll make some riffles
And laments that she's got the sniffles
Oh well, golly gee,
They're both about pee
It's infectious, but as a kink more a piffle
 
Em worries that she'll make some riffles
And laments that she's got the sniffles
Oh well, golly gee,
They're both about pee
It's infectious, but as a kink more a piffle
I had to look up riffle…

Well played!

Em
 
Lady Jane quickly downed whiskey sours,
With a plan to be naughty for hours.
She stood over Jim's face,
Pulled her thong out of place,
And dowsed Jim with her sweet golden showers.
 
Queen Padme ruled Planet Naboo,
Though a queen, she'd a taste for taboo.
She turned 'way from Ani,
And said, "Take my fanny."
She wanted his saber there, too.
 
My favorite pair of clean ones. The first was posted on a tree in the quad at Oxford:

A philosopher once remarked God
Must think it exceedingly odd
If he finds that this tree
Continues to be
When there's no one about in the quad.

It drew this reply:

Dear sir, your astonishment's odd
Since I am always about in the quad
And so this tree
Will continue to be
While observed by yours faithfully, God.
 
Allah, Yahweh, and Odin played pool,
To determine who'd finally rule.
But the balls wouldn't fall,
Leaving Satan to call,
"This game is a no-win, you fool."
 
There was a lass with lactating teats
That would leak all over her sheets
If you're one of the ilk
Who love fresh, warm milk
You'll savor the stuff she secretes
 
It’s cute that people like these
Seems all humanity agrees
But the actual writing
Can be slightly frightening
As short poems require expertise
 
Expertise is somewhat misleading
For crafting the verses preceding
A few naughty rhymes...
A meter that climbs...
One's skill need not be exceeding
 
These poems may seem easy to pen
You’d think you’d be done in just ten
But a young female’s meter
Is naturally sweeter
Which means we’re superior again
 
These poems may seem easy to pen
You’d think you’d be done in just ten
But a young female’s meter
Is naturally sweeter
Which means we’re superior again
There's something that really perplexes...
Why make this a battle of sexes?
Who cares who's on top?
We can always just swap!
Or is it transitioning that vexes?
 
It's no shock that Em likes it on top
And cowgirl's good if a feel you would cop
But one has to be wary
Lest she gets too merry
And leaves you a puddle to mop
 
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There once was a girl named Emily,
Whose limericks were for all to see.
They were all about sex,
And who she would do next.
Begged onehitwanda “Pick me! Pick me!”
 
There’s a writer named onehitwanda,
About Emily she’s rather fonda.
When they jolly well meet,
On a nice London street,
She’ll hug Em like an anaconda.
 
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