But that sporran contained a great treasure And it wasn't a sprig of mauve heather!! But to get to the prize She tickled his thighs With a wonderfully fluffy white feather.
A canny old Scot named McMurdo Fell in love with the bonny Ms Bardot But we knew, as she’s foreign, She’d dislike his sporran And his habit of slurping lemon curdo!
There was a young lady from Wales Who told such a lot of tall tales Known from Cardiff to Bangor She stirred joy or anger, And she tries the Eisteddfod and fails.
There was an old person from Brum Who got a tattoo on her tum But not content with that She had three on her roll of fat And a very large one on her bum
A limerick should always make us smile Perhaps giggle or smirk for a while But never vulgar, of course! We're a tour de force Who prefer a more subtle style.