Limericks
By Kirk Miller 

Golfers cuss all day long 'til they're hoarse.
I don't like it; to me it's the source
Of a peeve, drives me mad,
Tees me off, it's so sad.
The rough language is par for the coarse.
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The ant basketball team made a vow
To get better, but didn't know how.
No, it just wasn't right
To be lacking in height.
What they needed were tolerance, now.
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Any yard work, to me, is not play.
To my wife words of praise I did say:
"When you're out cutting grass,
You're my favorite lass,
And I lawn for you mower each day."
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My sewing group's very close-knit.
They accept me 'though I'm a misfit.
We embroider all day,
While the puns I do say.
Peopl e think I'm a fool -- a knit-wit.
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Quasimodo was hurting a bunch.
Saw the doctor; his spine had gone Crunch!
"Something's wrong with your back."
"Doc, what makes you say that?"
The physician replied, "Just a hunch."
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Actress McLain lived in the west
And had an ongoing request
When she made a joke,
Her friends then all spoke
And would say, "Shirley, you jest."
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O'er the turtle depression befell.
To a shrink all his woes he did tell.
"You are simply too shy,"
Said the doc, "And that's why
You should really come out of your shell."
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Copyright Kirk Miller.