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Dec 06, 2008
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A Collection of My Limericks
I am the limerick monster called tink
I play with words and ink
Created by lonnie and elf
A new favorite part of myself
I say this with a smile and a wink.
I'm in love with a man named Herb
Everyone calls him HerbSuperb
I never get blue
I know this to be true
Our love you cannot disturb.
There once was a dog named Rocket
Who loved to lick the wall socket
I couldn't stop 'em
And it popped him
Now i carry him in my pocket
There once was a son named Just
Who's father had a strange lust
He explained it to me
So that i could see
His dad simply loved to dust
There once was a boy named Jake
Who piled leaves with a rake
He had a big smile
Then jumped in the pile
And landed on a snake
There once was a man rough and rugged
Who had in his pocket a nugget
As he stood there to pee
He started to see
Why his father said never to tug it.
There once was a poet named Tink
Between her and I was the link
As I looked in her eye
She started to cry
As her well had run out of ink.
There once was a writer called Tink
Between she and me was the link
She wrote with ease
But wasn't a tease
You were satisfied with her ink.
Written by Tink
I play with words and ink
Created by lonnie and elf
A new favorite part of myself
I say this with a smile and a wink.
I'm in love with a man named Herb
Everyone calls him HerbSuperb
I never get blue
I know this to be true
Our love you cannot disturb.
There once was a dog named Rocket
Who loved to lick the wall socket
I couldn't stop 'em
And it popped him
Now i carry him in my pocket
There once was a son named Just
Who's father had a strange lust
He explained it to me
So that i could see
His dad simply loved to dust
There once was a boy named Jake
Who piled leaves with a rake
He had a big smile
Then jumped in the pile
And landed on a snake
There once was a man rough and rugged
Who had in his pocket a nugget
As he stood there to pee
He started to see
Why his father said never to tug it.
There once was a poet named Tink
Between her and I was the link
As I looked in her eye
She started to cry
As her well had run out of ink.
There once was a writer called Tink
Between she and me was the link
She wrote with ease
But wasn't a tease
You were satisfied with her ink.
Written by Tink
— Tink, Dec 06, 2008
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Critiques
zarul
17 years 6 months ago
HAHA
Tink
17 years 6 months ago
Zarul
Eduardo Cruz
17 years 6 months ago
tink,
Tink
17 years 6 months ago
lol eddie
Janice Pearce
17 years 6 months ago
A Collecction
muttering_madwoman
17 years 6 months ago
this
infinite_dwarf
17 years 6 months ago
yay Deb!!
Tink
17 years 6 months ago
thanks jess!
Rett
17 years 6 months ago
Always a kick Tink
Tink
17 years 6 months ago
hey rett
infinite_dwarf
17 years 6 months ago
btw....
Tink
17 years 6 months ago
guess who jess?
Ink Dragon
17 years 5 months ago
Been meaning to comment
Tink
17 years 5 months ago
I love your limerick!
weirdelf
17 years 5 months ago
glad to be an influence! Especially a silly one.