More Oedilf Limericks

Oh the hills that adorn Connemara
Paint themselves with a purple mascara,
And in midwinter’s reign,
They will show their disdain
By adopting a snow-white tiara.

Up above, where the stars are all clustered,
Shining forth in the dark, brightly lustred,
They are sprinkled like dust
On a black velvet crust,
Like white pepper adorning black custard.

As the bishop became even dozier,
The priest grew increasingly nosier.
He picked up his crook
And he had a good look
Till the bishop yelled “Hands off my crosier!”

The bungee jump stifled all laughter:
No-one noticed the white-water rafter—
As the jumper, with craft,
Dived headfirst through the raft,
And the coils of his rope tumbled after.

The Chief of Staff watched as his army
Were drowned in a Red Sea tsunami.
On the far side, young Moses
And the slaves thumbed their noses.
"Oh God," said the Chief. "I'm going barmy."

Clotted cream, it's alleged, has been spotted
On grocery shelves, firmly potted.
It's the true taste of heaven
When served fresh in Devon,
But in pots on the shelves? Ah, get knotted!

The conductor of the band had to warn its
Brass section 'bout squabbling like hornets.
He threatened to dump its
Recalcitrant trumpets
And melt down its quarrelsome cornets.

The laundrymaid took the bed linen —
"Eatin' choc'late in bed?" she said, grinnin'.
But then came the smell
And she let out a yell,
"Its a stable that they should've bin in!"

There once was an old basket-maker
Who made baskets upon his half-acre.
He wove every reed
Very slowly indeed –
He was hardly a mover and shaker.

The Christian liturgy's written
To stop people biting when bitten.
But though I agree
With this wholeheartedly,
I'm still gonna smite when I'm smitten.

At Amsterdam airport, the lack
Of forethought caused Seamus some flak.
“Your visit, you’ve stated,
Is business related?”
“Oh no, I’m just here for the craic.”

Desp’rately, Frank mopped his brow.
“Oh, please do not say goodbye now.”
But the leggy Italian
Caressed his medallion
And left with a tremulous “Ciao!”

My darling wife oft remarks I seize
Up totally in household crises.
If the loft tank’s o’erflowing
Or the heating’s not going,
I yell “Someone help! I’m a Pisces.”

A bar-room chanteuse from Muskogee
Complained that the place was too smokey.
“I can’t hit the right note,
I’ve a frog in my throat
And my voice is decidedly croaky.”

When Hamish pulled out of a date,
His friends called him “tumid” and “blate.”
“She doesn’t scare me,”
He said fearlessly
“But her father’s the toon magistrate.”