Limerick Duels by the Fans...2
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Hobbits like to Eat
The first thing I’d do in the Shire
Is find a gardener for hire
If his name was Sam
I’d tell him who I am
And we’d swap stories ‘til our mouths tire
The second event to transpire
Would be to warm up by the fire -
Tho' the flowers may bloom
With a Spring comin' soon,
Away from the chill we'll retire.
Should these two things be blessed to be
I'd heat up some water for tea
Butter some scones for my guests
And set out some footstools to rest
Our feet while we warm some potpourri!
The third thing to do once you're there
Open your doors with food to share
of meals there's a lot
whether cold, warm or hot
just make friends as your cupboards go bare.
With the cupboards bare we know perchance
The fourth thing that we do is dance -
After bouncing we flop,
Then we're all off to shop,
For we're hungry for cheeses and plants!
I'm trying to make a new verse
As work makes me feel rather terse
I'd rather be reading
Of Boromir bleeding
For wear and tear he was no worse.
Submitting verses on the boards
As each of us strike common chords
Playing tag with our poems
Running 'round in our homes
as valuable as dragon hoards.
Donuts! What a hobbity thing -
To a gathering, armloads you bring!
So fat and so puffy
They make us all "fluffy"
While stuffing our faces like kings.
A hobbit walks miles for treats
whether candy, vegetable or meat
They all taste so swell
That I really can't tell
If I faint from the taste or the heat!
I like your limericks, too, Pi. *feels like chopped liver*
Prim and Loth answered my mail
And Loth - chopped liver? Perish the thought! Never could such night-flora as you be bile organ pate.
As e-friends they would never fail
Stand up and be counted
When horses are mounted
To fight evil and thus prevail!!
Westward from Shire to sea
Brings you eventually
To Elvenhome fair
With nary a care
In their blessed reality.
That's funny...you don't LOOK like chopped liver.
Some liver pate, onions sweet,
Some sage and some savory meats,
Some crackers and breads -
Oh, it goes to our heads!
All the things at a market to eat!
I said that I feel like chopped liver
But I look more like a cat dragged from the river
All this talking of food
Sounds exceptionally good
I hope that the restaurant will deliver!
With the groceries we're loaded up,
So the fifth thing to do is to sup -
For Hobbits must eat
To a six-meal beat,
And we haven't had nearly enough!
Unawares I did venture this thread,
Not knowing what I had to dread,
Chopped liver & elves fair?!
What a curious pair!
I fear it's confuddled my head!
Now Evermind's joined in the fray
Trying to rhyme what she says
About elves and food
And other things good
This fun's lasted more than one day.
A cellar is never so fine
As one with selections of wine
To go with your cheese
Or any food that you please
As long as with me you will dine!
For confuddled heads nothings better
Than to use a cook-book to the letter,
Eat root, stalk and tops
And confuddling stops;
To the head through the tummy, a settler.
I could never be 'Blue', don't you see
If I am munching on crackers and Brie
I'm considering a sequester
With a 'Gouda' batch of Ilchester
But then I could not share it with thee!
A delicate scent on the breeze
An aroma to tempt and to please
On the palate it lingers
Down the crystal it fingers
Wine made from the honey of bees!
A song and a dance after meals
give the heart good things to feel
combining the two
with some home made brew
loosens the tongue and the heels.
An afternoon nap does great things
After eating food like onion rings,
Or anything fried
Hey, don't like it? I tried,
For free don't expect anything!!
The breaking of fasts is the meal
That set your day off with a zeal
A morn without food
Is really no good
Quite full is how you want to feel.
Midnight snacks are the best
When attempting to sleep but can't rest
Eat ice cream or cake
Anything to bake
Put my sage advice to the test.
When it comes to the subject of food
It all depends on my mood
If it will be something sweet
Or nutritional as a beet
Either way an elvish figure still eludes!
A limerick for Dinledhwen,
Who didn't know when to say, "when"
she drank and she drank
liquor in a tank
until she dreamed in Elven. (not Elvish, just so it rhymes.)
Why look like an Elf, much too slender
When as Hobbit you can chug a blender?
So come fill your plate -
The cooking is great,
And we're all getting chubby together!
A picnic on fine days is best
As nearly all can attest.
Though the day be so fair
A pinched derriere
Could mean you've stirred ants in their nest.
The ants get their share of the cake,
Crumb by crumb their dessert they will take,
To their underhill nest
Where their table is blest -
Just like Hobbits, they love to partake.
Aragorn ages like turtles
leaping over old age's hurdles
he doesn't go gray
and on his head his hair stays
and he never has to wear girdles!
Because he is of Westernesse
his blood's not mingled with less
than all Numenor
of that Elrond's sure
or he wouldn't get his Arwen princess.
Yet Aragorn wrinkles and withers,
Til it blows all his good looks to smithers -
Although he's not bald,
His dear wife is called
To await while o'er lotions he dithers.
For his skin did not baby-smooth stay,
And his crows-feet got deeper each day,
He despaired of his looks,
Til he found a small book -
Thus all Gondor honors Mary Kay.
Though Aragorn looked very sad
Allergic to MK, poor lad
He turned to a friend
Of Elvish descend (snicker)
And now his hair shines, he’s so glad!