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We had several fine entrants on the subject of Eccentrics, and the winner is:

Untitled, by Richmond Road
An embarrassing mess was my brother
With one leg that was short. Not the other
Which made this eccentric
Walk in circles concentric
Causing constant distress to our mother

Richmond Road won for being the funniest and most limerickest. Basically, I laughed the most.

But his wasn’t the only one to elicit a few, painful snickers. Read the others and see:

Untitled, by Dumbest Blogger
There was a young boy with a poker
Who ate an extremely large porker
He burped quite a bit
And then licking his lips
He swallowed the cow in the clover

Untitled, by TanGental
To be considered a true eccentric
Don’t dye your hair or develop a tic
Forget the multi-coloured spats
And avoid wearing tweedy hats.
Keep a steady gaze and be authentic.

Untitled, by Matt Snyder
at night across the rooftops ran a kid named Matt
without a stitch of clothes on his person, he was also quite fat
Perhaps it was the thrill
of being caught by a girl
Instead he was adored by a cat

A Paean To The Patron Of Poor Poetry, by Obbverse
Now expired William Topaz McGonagall was our inspirations name,
His well-intended worthless words Will was all too wont to proclaim,
But Willy’s laboured literary constructions sat ill-fittingly,
Serious tragedies becoming comedies, albeit unwittingly,
Eternally re-nouned as the worlds poorest poet, to his undying shame.

Lug Nut, by Obbverse
His Mum remained inanely chatty and cheerful
Even as Vinnie grew quiet, depressed, then tearful,
Vin had suffering in silence down to an fine art
So Mrs Van Gogh found the the real crazy part
Was when Vinnie cut her off only to give her an earful.

Untitled, by Gary
I am English and I am most certainly very eccentric
I drive a car the shape of a teapot but don’t worry, it’s electric
I have a fine collection of pink britches with matching bowler hats
Let’s not forget I live underground with my cross dressing pampered cats
And pray tell what’s wrong shopping in a musical codpiece when it’s authentic

Here ya go!, by Ruth Scribbles
There once was an eccentric old lady
Who was said to be really quite crazy
An obnoxious artist she was
And extremely heartless because
She was left at the altar all lacy

Untitled, by Michael Fishman
Henry wanted his in-laws to leave
So he sneezed really loud in his sleeve
The in-laws, abhorred,
to the door they rushed toward.
And a sigh of joy Henry did heave.

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Thanks to everyone who entered. Please return on the morrow for next week’s prompt! Tell your friends! Tell your acquaintances! Tell your mom!

Hey, RR, here’s a brand-spanking new badge for you to use on your site. Congratulations!

©2020 The poets, and their respective works