All of these limericks were originally posted to Esther Chilton’s Laughing Along With A Limerick during the month of April 2026.
Cape
With a cape, funny clothes, I will fly doing good as the bad guys go by. Some will change. Some will not. Some get burned. Some have got nary one good excuse not to cry.
The soft clouds are bright orange in the sky as the sun gives a nod of good-bye.
Trying To Scream In A Dream
Though I thought it might help if I’d scream, but caught as I was in a dream a scream couldn’t come out, no, not even a shout, and right now I’ve forgotten that dream.
Look how red they are now. See the sound of a wow.
Help!
Like some rocks in a black and blue box I discovered the truth of hard knocks. Being knocked all about I had no breath to shout except, Help! Get me out of this box!
As I stand on the solid wood floor, as I walk to the open wood door, there is more there to see, but I don’t being me. Let me change. Ah! Just did! I see more!
All of these limericks were originally posted to Esther Chilton’s Laughing Along With A Limerick during the month of March 2026.
Kiss Like This
There is bliss when a kiss doesn’t miss though that snake in the grass loves to hiss. Though the moon might be round the fine sun can be found in that bliss when we kiss just like this.
It’s a sunset so yellow and bright. When I look to the clouds I see light.
The Joy Of Sprouting
It might sprout if it only went out of its shell and then looked all about, saw the sun in the sky and white clouds flying high. If it did . . . well, it did. It went out.
Since a shower’s as good as a bath and my heart is more true than my math, I’ll rejoice and I’ll say I am blessed everyday day and not lost – not at all – on this path.
When I ride I can look out and say, What a wonderful, wonderful day! If you’re sighing inside, then come out for a ride. Do not hide for the Lord leads the way.
There once was a treat in a jar on a shelf way up high very far from the floor where he could eat it up and he would if he could get his nose in the jar.
All of these limericks were originally posted to either Esther Chilton’s Laughing Along With A Limerick or her Writing Prompts or derived from those posts during the month of February 2026.
Crazy Or Calm
“Are you crazy?” Not yet. I’m just calm like a rash that is itching for balm like a thought I won’t think like a word with a wink like a heart beating true in your palm.
“I am flying. I’m trying. OK?” said the bird to his mama one day. Then she jumped in the nest. Pushed the chick out. The rest is now history. He’s flying. OK?
There are birds, many birds, in the air. They fly calmly. They all are aware
Poisoned Apple
There once was a queen who thought she was the loveliest queen that could be till Snow White came along. Though that apple was wrong, the queen’s gone, right or wrong, thankfully.
I could drive, but I’d much rather walk. I could fly, if I could, like a hawk. Since I know that a lie makes a mess, I will try not to lie, but beware when I talk.
The dim light wasn’t bright as was right. Were it bright I would dim it at night, but it’s day, as we say when dark night goes away, when the sun that’s not dim is quite bright.
Those odd memories refuse to stop like a judge seeking justice on top of your case every day. All your lawyer need say, He’s now righteous. So, let the case drop.
All my worries are worrying fast. They have cast into now what was past, but today is today and the past’s gone away so this worrisome present can’t last.
So I told him it’s better to write a love poem than whine through the night. But his taste wasn’t for all that mushy stuff or he got wrong what he wouldn’t get right.
All of these limericks were originally posted to either Esther Chilton’s Laughing Along With A Limerick or her Writing Prompts during the month of January 2026.
Curly Curls
Well, I don’t think I have much to say about curls that girls display. When each curl is true, then the girl is, too – so I thought – and still do – come what may.
When the trees are all white, there is snow. It is bright in the light. I will go out to play in the stuff till enough is enough, go inside where I’ll hide from the snow.
It’s a wall so I heard after all with strange stuff making up this fine wall.
Farm
There’s a farm in the valley that’s fine. You can buy there fresh veggies and wine. There are eggs there as well. Though some critters may smell, when there’s sun, then the sun loves to shine.
Whether red, maybe blue, lovely green, it is light. It is bright and serene, but I wonder if you know that light can be true? Well, I do and it’s true. I have seen.
Though some thought that it should be a crime and it was, more or less, for the time when dark poems with words like loud ravenous birds made no sense and much worse didn’t rhyme.
I have heard it’s absurd. It’s a crime to be running one’s mouth all the time. Still, mine’s running so well even whiners can tell it’s all nonsense but nonsense with rhyme.
And I’m glad that I spotted this wall.
Light and Night Rhymes with Fright
Though the light said it’s day, it was night. I could see. What a horrible sight! There were monsters out there. There were goons everywhere, but in peace I slept on through their fright.
“All the same you are just playing games.” Well, at least I am not calling names. At least now I am not. When the feuding gets hot, who knows what we will use for our flames?
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 