There once was a poet named Stu, <br />he would write 'til his fingers turned blue. <br />When he searched for a rhyme <br />he committed a crime, <br />they said only free-versing for you. <br /> <br />In the greatest of rivers, the Nile <br />lived a six meter crocodile. <br />A reptilian purist <br />he would eat only tourists <br />you could tell when he had, by his smile. <br /> <br />My great uncle Dan is no more <br />he would sleep standing up and would snore. <br />With his mouth open wide <br />a huge roach crawled inside <br />and it left through the open back door.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/three-limericks-2/
