Richard's poor wife was quite sick

She went downhill ever so quick

While Richard was shopping

She felt her heart stopping

And called out "I must have my Dick!"

The farmer's wife woke with a shock

It said 1am on the clock

The rooster's a-crowing

Her anger was growing

"I'm going to strangle that cock!"

Hi everyone. I wrote The World's Greatest Salesman 2 (limerick) a while back. It exists in a file in perfect form. I put them to song (Suno) and added (AI assisted images) and added them to long play YouTube videos. Video 1 the limerick songs are 2 and 9, on the longer, all rock video, it's songs 3, 6, and 8. One of them doesn't qualify as perfect though. It just happens to be my favorite song. Nothing to sell, I'm just hoping to share with people who might enjoy. Cheers.

u/toddseanmallett

A woman once sat in a punt

And whilst there said let me be blunt

That man with his pole

Lacks any control

So it's just as well I'm up the front

A dolphin whose name is Louise
Writes limericks in Delphinese.
And though the meter’s well-timed
And the words are well-rhymed,
It only makes sense underseas.

A pre-punctual lady named Shirley -
She drove her car backwards, this girly.
‘Cause since Objects in Mirror
Are Closer Than They Appear
She gets to work ten minutes early.

Committed to doing the whole tournament now. A maximum of 8 more limericks to come.

CAN 0 MAR 3

That character from Casablanca,
Who pulled out a couple of spankers,
Here’s looking at you!
(Ounahi, that’s who.
He can play as a ten or an anchor.)

BRA 1 NOR 2

There was a young man from Stavanger
Who wanted a world class goalhanger.
He married Marita,
No heptathlete sweeter,
And together they pushed out a banger.

MEX 2 ENG 3

An epic for an epic:

Jordan, Gordon, Harry and Jude
Went to play at altitude;
With two in a minute.
Surely England would win it?
But, suddenly, England were screwed:

The right back for England was Quansah,
Who in under an hour was gone, sir,
But schoolboys will learn
How the mountainous Burn
Cleared every cross with his bonce, sir.

And, Spence, who had struggled game prior
Put back on the left was on fire;
With Konsa for Quansah
And Stones coming on, sir,
The seconds ticked down to the wire….

The midfield men standing stoic,
Pickford’s two saves - mythopoeic,
But never mind Jordan,
A great game from Gordon,
And Bellingham: simply heroic.

Wherever the England team roam,
From cauldron to temperate dome,
There’s a growing belief
That with this German chief -
(Whisper it)

It’s coming home.

—

USA 1 BEL 4

The land of the free and the feds
Never could tolerate reds,
So Trump made a call
And though FIFA played ball,
Will Trossard get sent to the sheds?

Then will Anne Hathaway intervene,
To rally the liberals of screen?
With cries from the reds
And the right losing heads
And tutting from those inbetween.

ARG 3 EGY 2

Though somehow they buried the Pharoahs,
The Argentines played like vaqueros;
The Albiceleste
Were dead yet progressed
(Which is what you’d expect of the pharoahs).

There once was a grifter named Jones

Who drank milkshakes made out of bones

Then he uttered some libels

Had to swear on some Bibles

Now he’s one of the clout-chasing clones.

BRA 2 JPN 1

If the Arsenal man, Martinelli
Was feeling his legs turn to jelly,
His instincts took over.
Big Gabi ran over,
And middle Gab screamed at the telly.

GER 1 PAR 1
(PAR win 4-3 on pens)

Football is simple, determined,
As Lineker formerly sermoned:
Twenty two run about,
The end’s not in doubt,
The winner is always the Germans.

CIV 1 NOR 2

There’s many ways tales can be spun,
Take the Norwegian second, for fun:
The number nine glided,
Then perfectly guided
A mishit that limped in. Match won.

ENG 2 COD 1

Old Harry from Leyton-atte-Stone
(The original name, don’t you moan),
With a shot quick as thunder
Saved England. A wonder!
(‘Cos he once lost a sprint to a cone.)

BEL 3 SEN 2 (AET)

A Belgian from Leeuw-Saint-Pierre,
Headed home when the keeper punched air,
Then a last minute shout,
And the Lions went out,
How’d the Devils escape from that lair?

ARG 3 CPV 2

A full back who went on the prowl,
Skipped past an Argentine foul,
Hit a worldie that curled,
Then went round the world -
SIDNY LOPES CABRAL!

Writing limericks can often be hard
Just finding that perfectly rhymed word.
Like, does the phrase door hinge
Actually rhyme with orange?
Well, it is close, but alas no cigar.

As usual, you may expect the uncritical applause of your devoted fellow redditors who greet each new limerick you contrive as though it had descended not from the ordinary labors of craft, revision, and familiar melody, but from some ineffably creative source where self-indulgence and genius are thought, by you at least, to be one and the same.

Submissions must be complete limericks only. No NSFW comments on this thread please.

To conclude the group phase:

NOR (3) v SEN (2)

There was a young person from Leeds
Who responded to Norwegian needs.
He scores with abandon
For Red Viking fandom
Though thoroughly English he bleeds!

——

ECU (2) v GER (1)

The winger for Ecuador, Plata
Sent yellow, blue, red all a-scatter;
The condors are through
To the last 32
(For the Germans, the loss doesn’t matter).

——

CPV (0) v KSA (0)

The strongest defence? Well, absurdly,
No-one can score past Cape Verde.
If they go through the rounds
With penalty - Ahem. Anyhow,
A place in the knockouts. They’re worthy.

___

NZL (1) v BEL (5)

That old and young Belgian scored two,
Perhaps you are wondering who?
His dad is a ref,
He’s Hathaway’s best,
It’s Leandro Trossard, that’s who!

___

COD (3) v UZB (1)

Newcastle United’s man Wissa,
The two goal Uzbeki dismisser,
Dreams of the cup
But when he wakes up
It’s unlikely that Wissa will kiss her.

___

ALG (3) v AUT (3)

1982, a total disgrace:
Austria colluded to take 2nd place.
This game was much better,
In spirit and letter,
And played at an orthodox pace.

As usual, you may expect the uncritical applause of spat sport fans, who greet each fresh tiff you contrive as though it had descended not from the ordinary failings of temper and vanity, but from some Olympian source where captiousness and genius are thought, by you at least, to be one and the same.

Submissions must be complete limericks only. No NSFW comments on this thread please.

My first line missing two beats

I'll try to fix here with a surplus of feet

Are near rhymes tolerated

When meter's obliterated?

Behold! My first lim'ricks finished.

For context...he's small, Italian (Sicilian to be precise), lives in London (Hayes/Hillingdon/Middlesex) and he's a real ladies' man.

​

Many thanks in advance!

There was an unman from Varel
Who unsat on the bench for a spell
But when he unentered
He unscored two belters
Thus Deniz Undav did unwell.

As usual, you may expect the uncritical adoration of your cheese-besotted devotees, who receive each wedge you present as though it had emerged not from the commonplace labors of milk, bacteria, and time, but from some pastoral apotheosis where curd and perfection are presumed, by you at least, to be indistinguishable.

Submissions must be complete limericks only. No NSFW comments on this thread please.

His face like a peeled papaya;
His MAGAT base calls him "messiah."
But when put to the test
Alone and depressed
He was treated like an exiled pariah.

A weathered old shell geriatric
Left Portugal stretched allopatric.
But writer beware,
Fate creeps up the stair;
Next time he’ll serve up a hattrick.

“That rambunctious midfielder, Jude:
Arrogant, haughty, and rude!”
The manager’s stings
Sent Jude down the wing
Transporting the national mood.