We asked you, dear readers, to send us limericks for our second annual contest, and wow — 112 people from all over the state sent us more than 200 limericks! Slainte!
We had so many, in fact, that in order to have enough space to print something from everyone, we had to choose just one limerick from each entrant that submitted a correctly formatted and rhymed poem. If your limericks had incorrect rhymes, uneven syllables, did not include your appropriate contact information or was just plain not a limerick, we’re sorry, but you were disqualified.
We also received a number of limericks from children ages 8-10 in the communities of Hermon, Glenburn and Whiting, and while we loved all of them, they weren’t eligible to enter the contest (though we do have them up on bangordailynews.com) because of their ages.
To help us select a winner from the entries that did make the cut, please take a moment to read through them, and vote for your favorite — print readers, please visit our website to take part in the vote, which will close at 5 p.m. Monday, March 19. We’ll announce the winner online and in print in Tuesday’s BDN, and that person will receive a $50 gift card to Geaghan’s Pub and Restaurant in Bangor. Again, thank you to all that participated! May the luck of the Irish be with you!
Desiree Grubbs, Swan’s Island
There once was a little green man
Who was stopped whilst in Ireland
“Wrong man you have got,
Pot of gold I have not
Not leprechaun but Yoda I am!”
Tom Taylor Lash, Orland
My car has a passion for gas
It constantly drinks, but alas
The dollars I pay
Have led me to say
My next ride will likely eat grass
Stephanie Turner, Winterport
At Geaghans today I’ll be drinkin’,
and all will know what I am thinkin’.
On St. Paddy’s day,
I’ll give a toast and say
Lord, please stop my wallet from shrinkin’.
Camille Boisvert, Gouldsboro
Renee, she’s a black Lab so nice
Her commands, no need to say twice
If you let out a giggle
She’ll throw you a wiggle
That ends in a split on the ice!
Robert Greenlaw, Greenbush
Spring in Maine this year is quite runny.
The rain and the snow, they aren’t funny.
The mud is real deep.
Into our shoes it does seep,
but, so far, no mosquitoes to be hungry!
Leslie Jenkins, Millinocket
The sons and daughters of Maine
Leave to seek their fortune and fame.
They go out-of-state,
But that’s not their true fate.
Back in Maine there is plenty to claim.
James Louder, Corinna
There is a headmaster I see
Who often appears on TV
The thrust of his pitch
is to get kids to switch
To a small private school up in Lee
Robert Hawes, Hampden
A White Leghorn hen had a mission
A B.A. was her lifetime’s ambition
But, she said, “If I lay
An egg every day,
I still can’t afford the tuition.”
David Bright, Dixmont
We think that it’s springtime at last
But remembering Aprils past
It’s easy to see
Just how there could be
Another cold wintery blast
Carolyn Langert, Pittsfield
I once took a ride into Bangor
Then pondered what I had gone there for
I was really surprised
When I realized
I was there cause I wanted to shop more!
Kevin Holmes, Bangor
There once was a country called Greece
That Goldman Sachs came for to fleece
They cooked the books and got paid
And the EU got played
Now misery there will increase
Vince Hartford, Lincoln
A hot-tempered man lives in strife
With his friends, his co-workers and wife
But a man slow to rage
Will reap peace as his wage
From his youth to the end of his life
Rebecca McCall, Blue Hill
Scores of liars and nincompoops roam
Till they finally locate a home
Where they won’t be harassed
Which is why they’ve amassed
Safely under the Capitol dome
Donna Ouellet, Addison
Don’t text and drive, so they say
But my thoughts I have to relay
I saw the blue lights
My heart quickened with fright
And now I have a big fine I must pay
Susan Killam, Blanchard
The Great State of Maine is so fine
From coastal beaches to tall northern pine.
Moose, lobster, and deer,
They bring people here
And Vacationland continues to shine.
Anita Eberbach Stuart, Dover-Foxcroft
To make the St. Patrick’s Day scene
It’s wise to display something green
Clothes, hair, or your face
Choose any good place
Even soup in your mother’s tureen!
Kristine Bondeson, Stockholm
There was a Maine farmer of means
Who saved every penny he gleaned.
“What’s you secret?” folks cried.
“Couldn’t save if we tried.”
Said the farmer, “Just eat pork and beans!”
Donna Carter, Mapleton
The Irish are known for their whiskey
And behavior decidedly risky
For quaffing poteen
While wearing the green
Can make one uncommonly frisky!
Marilyn Etchison, Hampden
There once was a man from Vincinnes
Who was terribly, terribly thin
This man names McRahan
Longed to eat at Geaghan’s
So the contest he needed to win
George Baker, Brewer
We’re happy to have Geaghan’s near
When brewing for us drinks so dear
The family from Brewer
Brings us tastes that are newer
Which enhances our pleasure from beer
Patricia Gallagher, Presque Isle
When you hike up to Carrigaline
You’ll be met by a shyster named Sheen
If you slip him a bob
You’ll have beer in your gob
And more corned beef than you’ve ever seen
Guy Gallagher, Presque Isle
There’s a pub in merry Athlone
When a wolfhound lies gnawin’ a bone
Says the publican there
“You should sit in a chair
So Pat Murphy won’t feel so alone”
Patsy A. Carlson, Presque Isle
There once was a man named Bill
Who dreamt he was over the hill
He woke in the night
With a terrible fright
And sat on his windowsill
Elizabeth Ann McCullen, Hampden
St. Patrick drove out the snake
Said repent your past mistakes
Would he see the fun
In his name begun
By green fools out on the make?
Stephen Norris, Orrington
There once was a singer named Jean
On high notes her face would turn green
On low notes she’d bellow,
and turn a bright yellow,
the most colorful singer I’ve seen!
Sandra Robinson, Bangor
There once was a lady named Meghan
Who’s favorite Pub was Geaghan’s
She loved the green beer
But lived with the fear
That the next mornin’ her head would be achin’
Lital Rudoy, Bangor
On St. Paddy’s I looked for gold
So I have some when I am old
Instead of getting lucky
I began to feel yucky
And now I have gotten the cold!
George Adams, Brewer
There once was a Danny Boy song
I used to sing all day long
But right now I’m afraid
That no homage be paid
I sing it totally wrong.
Fran Drabick, Eastport
I cannot begin to tell ye
That everyone seems to smell thee
As you boil in pots
Cabbage smells like rot
And sends all my neighbors to flee.
Julie Ellis, Dexter
There once was an old Irish elf
Who took great pride in himself
He always wore green
And loved to be seen
So he could spread plenty of wealth
Angela Monroe, South Thomaston
Our great state has long had the claim,
Of a senator with “Snowe” in her name.
But when she finally got done,
Then the “King” made his run,
And tried to change “Snowe” into “reign.”
Philippa Harvey, Orrington
An Irishman from Bangor, Maine,
Took a ride on the B & A Train,
He rode to the junction,
To an afternoon function,
Then staggered back home in the rain
Jeremy Lehan, Bangor
By the edge of the Kenduskeag Stream,
Is a vision most fair and pristine.
After snow and the ice,
It just looks oh so nice—
’Tis a patch of wee grass that is green!
Finn Bondeson, Woodland
I met a young trucker who boasted,
Of all the fine highways he’d coasted,
Stuck five feet in a rut,
Mired deep to his gut,
Saying, “Golly, this road should be posted!”
Kathe Walton, Salsbury Cove
We’ve had little snow this season
As spring’s quickly approaching, I reason
There must be some elves
Keeping us dry, this ’12
Mother Nature’s fair doings are pleasin’!
Larry Beck, Rockland
Kate O’Toole, who taught English in Brewer,
Was a bright lass to all those who knew her
But she still lost her job
And explained with a sob,
“I used ‘less’ when I should have used ‘fewer!’”
Cathy Lemin, Bangor
A wee bit o’ winter remains
Its effects, they are starting to wane
Our Snowe wants to go
Thus causing some woe
What changes will spring bring to Maine?
Charlie Anderson, Stockholm
“Will he run? Yes he will, King, Angus,”
Lamented good Dems, “Gol-dang us.”
Mike M. and Johnny B.,
and Hannah and Chellie P.
All cry, “Out to dry you did hang us.”
Ron Blum, Patten
A tourist was speaking of Maine,
She said, “Driving 95 is a pain,
While traffic is bearable
The moose there are terrible,
I’d rather traverse it by train.”
Linda Browning, Stockton Springs
The husband recently retired
He is thankful he didn’t get fired
Since becoming quite lazy
He’s driving wife crazy
She’s praying he’ll soon be re-hired
Lawrence Merrill, Bangor
Creating a limerick a day
Should help keep dementia away
Finding words that will rhyme
And sound right each time
Can be… What’d I say?