Limerick: A five-line, whimsical, winsome, and/or witty poem in the rhyme structure aabba.

 

My family thinks that I’m daft.

At my hobby of stamps, they just laugh.

I know it’s not nice,

But I didn’t think twice,

When at Christmas, I gave them the shaft.

 

My friends all think I’m a tramp;

There’s naught I won’t do for a stamp.

I’ll admit, there is friction,

When they see my addiction,

And my hand, so tired and cramped.

 

Rubber stamping consumes my life.

For this hobby, I gave up my wife.

Although she was kind,

In the back of my mind,

I knew I should hide from her knife.

 

Rubber stamps always make a great gift,

I make them while on the night shift.

I put them away,

When night turns to day,

‘Cause the manager really gets miffed.

 

Art stamps, I heed your call,

When you beckon me to the mall.

Please have a discount,

When the costs start to mount,

As my credit card limit is small.

 

I can’t find my desired graphic!

If they had it, I’d give my web traffic.

I just want a bee,

Or a hive in a tree,

And nothing that’s pornographic.

 

I have a favorite scrapbook.

Once a month, I open to look,

At the memories collected,

And the thoughts past reflected.

They’re safe in their own little nook.

 

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