When the big female candidate cried,
People said, “The ex-president’s bride
Is not really tough,
And campaigning is rough.”
But it brought voters o’er to her side.

If only we’d gone out of town,
And cut a fresh Christmas tree down.
This grocery store tree,
Once looked fine to me.
But now, tell me, why is it brown?

We slowed and we stopped: We were stuck.
But then came a bit of good luck.
With some help from me,
The tide set us free,
And now we’re in water, not muck.

What are the three kinds of sailors? Those who have gone aground, those who will go aground, and those who lie about it.

Strange names around here are in vogue,
Calibogue is not “Calibog,”
And “Falcon” I get,
But “Rougue” makes me fret,
Should it be “rouge” as red, or just “rogue?”

We had our test sail aboard the Falcon Rougue yesterday, and we’re still in the dark about how the name is pronounced. Is “rougue” a clever play on the red hull, or just a misspelling? Either way, it doesn’t quite rhyme with the place we sailed — Calibogue Sound is pronounced Cal-i-BOGEY.

While driving around, by and by,
We spotted some doors 8 feet high.
Not sure what’s the reason –
Are stairs out of season?
Or maybe these Newfies can fly!

This limerick illustrates one of my favorite travel mysteries. Why do people in Newfoundland have front doors many feet in the air? I asked a number of local residents, and they just scratched their heads. Then one fellow, who was particularly fast on his feet, said with a grin, “We call those ‘Mother-in-law doors’.”

I have known Dave for twenty-five years,
Though we’ve never shared whiskey or beers.
He’s a fine upright friend,
And this poem I send,
As I raise up my Coke and say, “Cheers!”

“I missed it!” I cried out, aghast.
The birthday of Craig has just passed.
Though he’s now six-zero,
The man is my hero,
‘Cause parties with him are a blast.

This one’s for Captain Craig, Scourge of Lake Union and Environs. The notorious Craig was celebrated in an earlier Mepsnbarry Adventure, That’s Me in the Monkey Mask.

I believe that a limerick is a delightful way to celebrate someone’s life, which is why I advocate writing birthday limericks. Last week, a dear friend passed away. He was a kind, gentle soul with a great sense of humor. I think he would have liked a memorial limerick, so I wrote him one:

I’m not one to spend much time in prayer,
But the rules of this life seem unfair.
So, does God grant forbearance?
If he does, please send Clarence
Back down — we need time to prepare!

It was only a few months ago that I wrote another limerick for Clarence, when he first went into the hospital.

Everything mentioned in the following rhymes is absolutely TRUE. Burning Man really is that weird, and that inspirational. At least, it inspires crazy Burning Man limericks!

Are these fellows really our males?
They’re wearing pink wigs and cat’s tails,
And crazy orange shirts,
With bright sequined skirts,
At Burning Man, weirdness prevails.

In fishnets and boots with high heels,
I jump on my spiffy pink wheels,
My seashell bikini,
Might score a martini,
Because of the skin it reveals.

A huge pterodactyl walked by,
He towered 12 feet in the sky,
And Dave’s disco ball,
Which held us in thrall,
On Barry’s bike, then caught his eye.

The dust storm came out of the blue,
I knew then just what I should do,
“There’s room here, to hide,”
I pulled him inside,
A handicapped toilet for two.

They blew up the derrick last night,
The mushroom cloud: What a cool sight!
And over the sound,
Of “techno” all ’round,
I heard, “Holy sh*t, that was bright!”

Here’s something that Grandma enjoys:
A house that is chock-full of noise,
Where elephants thump,
And dinosaurs jump.
Such racket from two little boys!

When two boys come for a visit, and their combined age is less than 10, there’s a lot of chaos!

There once was a lady named Kate,
Whose birthday was on this fine date,
She wanted a cake,
But her friends could not bake,
So her candles just sat on a plate.

Here’s a funny coincidence — a reader I’d never met asked me out of the blue for a birthday limerick for her friend, Kate. I dashed this off, then sent a copy to my brother-in-law, whose daughter is named Kate. He wrote back, saying Kate’s birthday was only three days away! What are the chances of that?

Of course, then I got overwhelmed and forgot to post the limerick on June 6th. Silly me…happy belated birthday, to all Kates!

Now, there once was a pirate named Barry,
Who is frozen and quite stationary,
He’s unable to fight,
What is looming in sight,
Turning forty for him is reeeeeeal scary.

We have gotten a new reputation,
And we’re known through the train and the station.
When it gets dark, like this,
We exchange a brief kiss,
It’s our “Tunnel of Love” celebration.

We’ve just arrived in Southern California after an amazing 35-hour adventure on the train. I planned to celebrate every tunnel with a smooch, but this had slightly embarrassing consequences. The dining car only had booths for four, so we sat down for dinner directly across from an older couple from Santa Cruz. During that one meal, we went through 22 tunnels, which interrupted both the food and the conversation. When we sat down the next day for lunch, our reputation had preceded us. Two strangers from LA were seated across from us. But they knew who we were: “You’re the kissing couple!”

I went out yesterday on a lovely little 1947 Chris Craft to celebrate the “Opening Day of Boating Season.” Given the limerick below, it’s appropriate that the boat’s name is “Flagrante Delicto.”

There’s a poem that starts out “Hooray,”
And the word that rhymes with it is “May,”
If you know what I mean,
Then I won’t be obscene,
Outdoor boating is what starts today.

My essay last year about Beltane and other early-May holidays even used “Hooray, Hooray, the first of May” as a title…but I never published the rest of the poem.

I’ve never tried to write a poem about myself. The only word that I can think of that rhymes is “adeps,” a synonym for lard.

But I discovered yesterday that when properly lubricated (see my recipe for the Goombay Smash), my friends can produce birthday limericks right off the cuff. Since Tina just had a birthday (4/27) and Will is about to have one (5/16), I’m gonna write some limericks about them, too. Luckily, I have just the reference…my own article, entitled “How to Write a Birthday Limerick.”

From Tina:
There once was a sailor named Meps
Who’d had poor luck with men, excepts
a sailor named Barry
Who asked her to marry
And so they went up the church steps.

From Will:
There once was a sailor named Meps
Who refused to take her twelve steps
With surprising alarm
She drank with both arms
By morning she cried, “Oh my biceps!!!”

For Tina:
Is it time for a concert, Ms. Tina?
Will your rub board’s sound fill this arena?
For the Zydeco Locals,
Which feature your vocals,
Make me dance like a crazed ballerina.

(If you follow the link to the Zydeco Locals’ website, Tina’s the one on the left, with the rub board.)

Will’s limerick will be coming soon…I have two weeks to work on it, and plenty of material.

Dedicated to a dedicated reader:

The good fellow Tara calls “Dad,”
Said, “Room service here is so bad,
“I asked for a steak,
“They gave me an ache!”
A good time by all was not had.

I always joke about the fact that there are only two people reading this website. This limerick is dedicated to one of them, and the postscript is here so the other one will get the joke!

Clarence is currently having a spot of bother at a hospital in Columbus, Ohio. I hope he gets well soon, so he can outrun the nurses. I bet I know who will be driving his getaway car…

Well, the masts and the bulkheads all creak,
And the decks have a bit of a leak,
She’s a classic old boat,
And she keeps us a float,
But, goodness! The head sure does reek!

There are so many interesting alternative terms for toilets — “biffy” is a charming Canadian term for a pit toilet. And “head” refers to a toilet aboard a ship. This little ditty is from our crazy adventures in Florida and the Bahamas aboard Vger. The diesel tank vented into a locker in the head compartment, so that part of the boat always reeked … of diesel.

Said the famous explorer, de Gama,
To his proud but befuddled old mama,
“I’ve got spices galore,
Precious jewels, silk, and more,
But I wanted to find Grand Bahama.”

Vasco de Gama was the Portuguese sailor who discovered, in 1497, a sailing route from Lisbon to India. The goodies he brought back made him famous and made Portugal’s King Manuel wealthy.

The Bahamas had actually already been discovered by then, by a much more famous sailor, Christopher Columbus.

A bike has two wheels in a line,
But this speed-demon husband of mine,
Needs a wheelchair to ride,
With its wheels side-by-side,
And a nurse and two doctors behind.

Barry was riding too fast on his new Bike Friday on Monday. The accident netted him a broken arm, a broken finger, multiple contusions, a black eye, and an extremely concerned but annoyed spouse.

I’m tired of this snuffling and sneezing,
Bronchitis and head colds with wheezing,
I don’t like to suffer,
I wish I were tougher,
But bring on some spring, ’cause I’m freezing!

In honor of Punxsutawney Phil, who did not see his shadow on February 2nd. That means spring should come early this year, and I, for one, am ready!

A Newfoundland lady once bet,
That she’d find, somewhere, out on the ‘net,
A recipe page,
For wine, moose, and sage.
She won! It’s on Foodie Gazette.

A little limerick to celebrate the spinoff of The Foodie Gazette, Meps’ new food website, with over 700 recipes and articles. Sage Moose Braised in Wine from the St. John’s, Newfoundland, newspaper, is one of the more intriguing recipes on the site.

A little Thanksgiving limerick to celebrate the annual pardon of two turkeys by the president:

I just heard that two turkeys’ demise
Was avoided, to their great surprise.
The big turkey in power,
In the eleventh hour,
Gave them pardon, along with the pies.

There once was an ornery cuss,
Who was driving a yellow school bus,
But she flipped off George Bush,
Now she sits on her tush,
‘Cause she lost her job in all the fuss.

This refers to a Seattle-area school bus driver who was fired for flipping off George Bush’s motorcade this past June. OK, a bus driver is supposed to be a role model for students, so I can see a reprimand. But firing? That’s going too far.

Writing a birthday limerick is simple and doesn’t take a lot of time. In this age of conspicuous consumption, a simple birthday limerick is a great way to celebrate someone special without bringing more styrofoam, wrapping paper, and unwanted aftershave into the world.

I have chanced on a great birthday present,
Not expensive champagne, duck, or pheasant,
But a lim’rick — some humor
To dispel the old rumor,
That a birthday is not something pleasant.

In order to make the limerick special, it needs to be about the person, not a generic 30th- or 40th-birthday limerick. For me, that requires a little brainstorming session. I do this best when insomnia strikes in the middle of the night. If the person’s birthday is imminent and you don’t have insomnia, a couple of beers can lubricate the rhyming process.

The brainstorming simply involves thinking about the person and anything related to him or her that’s easy to rhyme. Is the person’s name easy to rhyme? I have both a sister and a sister-in-law named Julie, and I haven’t been able to do much with “Bernoulli” or “patchoulli.” So I’ll have to use other techniques, as you’ll see below. However, some names are easy, such as “Kate” or “Barry.”

There once was a lady named Kate,
Whose birthday was on this fine date,
She wanted a cake,
But her friends could not bake,
So her candles just sat on a plate.

Now, there once was a pirate named Barry,
Who is frozen and quite stationary,
He’s unable to fight,
What is looming in sight,
Turning forty for him is reeeeeeal scary.

If the person’s name is not easy to rhyme, think about his or her relationship to you — what rhymes with “sister,” or “son?” When I needed to write a birthday limerick for my father, I found no good rhymes for “Henry,” but dozens for “Dad”:

There’s a guy who I proudly call Dad,
And a mighty fine birthday he had.
To make such a great man, it
Takes years on this planet.
But I won’t tell his age (he’d get mad).

Another good theme to get the rhyming started is the person’s age. Ages ending is “seven” are bad to rhyme, because you’re limited to “heaven” and “eleven.” But you can talk about the fact that he or she is no longer thirty-six, which rhymes with plenty of words — flicks, picks, tricks, mix.

Here’s one I wrote for a reader with two young children who wanted help with the invitation to their combined birthday party. The nice thing about this one is that it’s flexible, and you can change it to suit different children. You could replace the names, change the month, even replace “cookout” with “party,” and it would still work:

Our Seth is about to turn two,
And Rachel’s soon four, it is true,
We’ve written this rhyme,
‘Cause October’s the time,
For a big birthday cookout with you!

You can be even more creative, branching out and thinking about the subject’s home town, home state, occupation, or hobbies.

Here’s one about my brother-in-law, Ed, an ultra-marathon runner. Every year, on his birthday, he runs the same number of miles as his age:

The number of miles he would run
Last year was a mere fifty-one.
But now, fifty-two?
That much harder to do —
Old age does not make it more fun.

Current events or something funny that happened to the person can also inspire a good limerick. I once had a friend who moved from the bug-free Pacific Northwest to New Orleans. That year, he gave me plenty of subject matter:

While taking a drink in the shade,
Dear Brian enjoys Gatorade.
But taking a swig,
Found a live roach THIS BIG,
Now he’s mixing his cocktails with Raid.

Once I come up with an inspiring word or phrase for the person, I usually start going through the alphabet, looking for words that rhyme with it. There are also lots of good rhyming dictionaries on the internet, where you can type in a word, and all the rhymes come back. I use Rhymezone, which organizes the choices by syllables. If I’m having trouble coming up with good rhymes, I can also check Rhymezone for synonyms. That often breaks through the rhymer’s block.

There are a couple of tricks you can do to come up with even more rhymes for a given word. One is to contract the word:

On a trip south through old Oklahom’

And another is to add an extra syllable at the end of a word:

Two gals who were feeling quite plucky,
Drove north in their little red truckie

For your limerick, you’ll need at least two sets of rhymes — one with three words and one with two words. If you have more than that, you may be inspired to write several stanzas.

Now you’re ready to construct the birthday limerick. If you’ve written limericks before, or if you feel comfortable mimicking the ones you’ve read, go for it — but when you’re done, there is one crucial step you should not skip.

Write or print your limerick and hand it to someone else to read out loud. That will immediately identify any problems with the rhyme and meter. This is an important step for a birthday limerick, because birthday limericks are always read out loud, either at large parties or just repeated many, many times.

If you’re new to this limerick business, or you want to hone your skills further, keep reading for some tips on structure and meter.

The structure of a limerick is five lines, A-A-B-B-A. That means that the first two lines rhyme with each other and with the fifth line. The third and fourth lines rhyme with each other:

A - Now my big sister Daisy’s a dear,
A - And I wrote of her birthday last year.
B - But another year’s passed,
B - And it happened so fast,
A - That she’s now one year older, I fear.

One of the biggest challenges to limerick-writers, new and experienced, is getting the meter right. A proper limerick has anapest meter, which means lines one, two, and five are stressed like this:

da-da-DUM da-da-DUM da-da-DUM

And lines three and four are shorter, but still have the same kind of meter:

da-da-DUM da-da-DUM

You can modify this a little, starting a line with da-DUM and ending it with da-da-DUM-da. But don’t make changes other than that, or it won’t flow properly, as this example attests:

No, it’s really not that hard to rhyme,
And it just takes a whole lot of time.
But the meter’s the thing
To make every piece sing,
And limerick-writers like me consider lousy meter a terrible crime.

The trick to making a good limerick great is to make it funny. Humor is the hallmark of a great birthday limerick, and you have a chance to gently poke fun at the birthday person. It’s always nice to throw in a little surprise in the last line, as I did in this 40th birthday limerick:

So by 40, your hair’s turning gray,
And gravity holds you in sway.
You must stand on your head
When you get out of bed,
Just to keep nasty wrinkles at bay.

But the truth is, you’re not really old!
You are vibrant and youthful and bold.
You can still climb a tree,
You’re vivacious and free —
Now just eat these stewed prunes, as you’re told.

Margret “Meps” Schulte has always had a soft spot for silly rhymes, her favorite poetry book being the Norton Anthology of Light Verse. In 2002, she was inspired to publish her first limerick on the Web when she noticed that her friend Brian’s name sort-of-rhymed with the name of his new boat, Cayenne. Since then, she has written well over 100 limericks about her travels, current events, friends, and anything else that strikes her fancy. Meps has also submitted about two dozen limericks to the Omnificent English Dictionary In Limerick Form, or OEDILF, giving her the dubious title of “Contributing Editor.”

If this article made you smile, you may also enjoy reading some of the Adventures of Meps ‘n’ Barry.

Now my big sister Daisy’s a dear,
And I wrote of her birthday last year.
But another year’s passed,
And it happened so fast,
That she’s now one year older, I fear.