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Bellingham Herald readers share limericks for St. Patrick’s Day

Once again, Bellingham Herald readers have enthusiastically submitted limericks to mark St. Patrick’s Day.

For a fair sampling, one or two limericks from each contributor are shown first, with additional entries by some writers further down the list. That’s not to say the latter limericks are any less delightful, but that every contributor deserves due attention for sharing his or her creations.

Alas, some people won’t see their entries here because they didn’t follow the standard format for limericks.

In other words: Most Herald readers are slick/at crafting a limerick/but when they go astray/from “a,a,b,b,a,”/they are shown the door right quick.


There once was a sailor named Sam

Who lived in the south of B’ham.

He built a big boat

And now he can quote

I yam what I yam yes I yam!

– Michelle Ballou, Bellingham

There once were some cats in Fairhaven

Whose fur was as dark as a raven

Then along came a hoax

To turn cats into coats

It’s a James Wardner legend worth savin’.

– Jeni Cottrell, Bellingham

There once was a blonde beauty queen

Who impulsively died her hair green

Then she put on her crown

And went out on the town

to celebrate March 17.

– Jeni Cottrell, Bellingham

My life is now over I think

Though I’m told sorrows drown in a drink

But wait! Not so fast!

This funk may not last

Yon pretty lass gave me a wink!

– Bob Hynes, Bellingham

I once met a maiden quite fair

A Colleen with dark raven hair

I vowed to pursue her

Just so I could woo her

And she had me walking on air.

– Bob Hynes, Bellingham

The joy and the fun in the shadow of Mt. Baker,

We won’t be deterred by the threat of a “shaker,”

’Hamsters won’t flee,

That’s a guarantee,

’Cuz leaving this beauty would be a heart breaker!

– Micki Jackson, Bellingham

There once was a lad in Fairhaven

who walked ’long the tracks while a’gazin.

A trolley was neigh as he looked to the sky.

And now he’s a part of the pavin.

– Spence Johnson, Bellingham

There was a team in the Ski to Sea race

Intent on not “losing face.”

So, they worked on their time

Got their members in line

And ended up “besting” their pace.

– Eileen Kadesh, Bellingham

There once was a town filled with scores

Of people who loved being outdoors.

They cycled and ran,

Hiked, walked, and got tan

On Bellingham trails, of course.

– Eileen Kadesh, Bellingham

There once was an Audi A3,

That drove into a tree,

The owner was mad,

And also quite sad,

So he called up a guy named Lee!

– Owen Kirkham, 13, Bellingham

There’s a fine young lad named Frannie,

He’s as Irish as Flanagan’s grannie.

His eyes and his smile,

Come from old Erin’s Isle,

and a Shamrock grows wild on his fanny.

–Jack Lee, Bellingham

Consider the look of Lynette,

As Irish as a Colleen can get

Her eyes and her smile,

Are designed to beguile,

Every lad that she’s ever met.

–Jack Lee, Bellingham

Though St. Patrick himself was a saint,

Many who toast the man ain’t.

If he were here now

I dare to avow

He’d make a plea for restraint.

– Nancy Lewis, Bellingham

A hyperkinetic Bridget

Did nothing but squirm and fidget.

She never paused

In the trouble she caused,

This tiny, two-year-old midget.

– Nancy Lewis, Bellingham

There is a writer of renown

who writes everything down.

He began bottle tipping

and soon started slipping,

now tries conjugating a noun.

– Andrew Shattuck McBride, Bellingham

There is a player of the cello

whose belly shakes like Jell-O

Now he resists all-he-can-eat,

takes a walk rather than a seat.

Otherwise, remains quite mellow.

– Andrew Shattuck McBride, Bellingham

Their most ardent admirers confessed

that the Seahawks had sorely been pressed.

Their response to the threat

is a year of regret.

The twelfth man had needed a rest.

– Jim Milstead, Bellingham

The vultures while reading their mail

first hear of the used carcass sale.

Emitting no squawks

they assembled in flocks

overwhelmed by the flavor of stale.

– Jim Milstead, Bellingham

A bridge jumper relied on his bungee

Which turned out to be a bit spongy.

He got quite a scare,

But finished in air,

And vowed this would be his last plungee.

– John Mumma, Bellingham

I know not to drive while I tweet

But my new GPS is so sweet.

It said “Shut my mouth,

Y’all came from the south

And turned west on east north street.”

– Jim Orvik, Bellingham

The logician took a long quaff,

And smiled because no one could scoff

At his keen observation

That procrastination

Is one thing you cannot put off.

– Jim Orvik, Bellingham

There was an old Scot from Innes

Who believed there is no evil in us;

He was merry and gay

Until one day

When they took away his Guinness!

– Don Pilcher, Bellingham

There was a young lad from Galway

Who cried constantly they say

To keep him quiet

He was put on a diet

Of corned beef and cabbage each day.

– Don Pilcher, Bellingham

She planned only green for the day,

even dyed her hair lime as a way

to show Irish sass

yet not be too crass –

subdued excitement on display.

– Timothy Pilgrim, Bellingham

A leprechaun named Seamus Garney,

Was born in the town of Killarney.

He’d brag of great glories,

By making up stories

And clearly was full of much blarney.

– Mark Schlichting, Bellingham

The bubbles in good champagne wine,

Help celebrate while people dine.

But, St. Paddy’s Day

Most Irish would say

The bubbles in beer are just fine.

– Mark Schlichting, Bellingham

To the quaint border town of Sumas

Came B.C. folks in search of cheap gas

’Til the bargains were gone

And those folks all moved on

Leaving bare ruined stations, alas!

– Dale Steele, Sumas

If a Kiwi fruit crop you would grow

Here is something you’d do well to know

Your plan’s sure to fail

If you don’t have a male

And you won’t have a crop you can show.

– Dale Steele, Sumas

My world then was perfect tis true

For this maiden with eyes sparkling blue

But soon she grew weary

My life is now dreary

And now all my days I will rue.

– Bob Hynes, Bellingham

Begorrah, it’s St. Patrick’s Day,

Which Paddy observes his own way,

Not with ale and grub

In the neighborhood pub

But perusing the works of Monet.

– Nancy Lewis, Bellingham

Shamus lived up to his name

When he pitched the losing game.

His teammates booed

And he was viewed

As the one who deserved all the blame.

– Nancy Lewis, Bellingham

An Irishman named Sweeney

Created quite a scene. He

Sat upon

A leprechaun

And now is called a meany.

– Nancy Lewis, Bellingham

A lawyer, on Valentine’s Day,

Painted hearts on his shorts on his way

To mediate beefs

Wearing amicus briefs,

Pro bono, a smile was his pay.

– Jim Orvik, Bellingham

A voter fraud law based on lies

Will cut the black vote down to size.

Add a slick gerrymander,

Raise liberal dander

And prove that Jim Crow never dies.

– Jim Orvik, Bellingham

The Second Amendment once pled

For civilian militias, close led.

Then the NRA flexed

And now we are vexed

By malicious civilians instead.

– Jim Orvik, Bellingham

There was a young man named Davy

Who had spent many years in the Navy

When asked to say grace

He put on a long face

And said “Please pass the potatoes and gravy.”

– Don Pilcher, Bellingham

An Irishman playing guitar

Was making a wish on a star

To play down in Dixie.

Then up popped a pixie,

And now he is traveling far.

– Mark Schlichting, Bellingham

My grandfather spent lots of time,

Committing great poems to rhyme.

He gave me a lesson

But I kept on messin’,

And now I just can’t seem to make anything fit correctly!

– Mark Schlichting, Bellingham

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