A Kartful of limericks – to inspire you!

Our limerick competition finishes at the end of the month…here’s a few more from the prolific GoKartoonist Laureate, soon to be retitled Limerickitist Laureate. To inspire you for your own creations in the competition here

A rather strange lady from Chester
Claimed her GoKart had possessed her
Her friend even said
It was banned from her bed
Because it had tried to molest her

An Indian golfer named Gandhi
With a wedge was remarkably handy
He could chip the ball in
With incredible spin
But struggled in areas sandy

A stuttering golfer called Tate
Never scored less than an eight
Try as he might
The ball flew off right
‘ Ff f f f f f f f f f fore! ‘ was always too late

A GoKart owner turned white
When her haunted trolley took flight
She heard a low moan
As it set off alone
Doing all eighteen holes in the night

When a golfer chipped in the hole
He found it was housing a mole
On leaving the links
He bought everyone drinks
‘It’s my first mole in one,’ they were told.

Two golfers discussing a rule
Each called the other a fool
It came to a head
When one was found dead
By nine irons at dawn in a duel.

A member played golf on his horse
And made such a mess of the course,
The committee were clear
For an act so severe,
That the greenkeeper shot him of course.

Could Zen hold the key to my game
To now be the ball is my aim,
If I’m not straight and true
Or simply roll through,
This way the ball gets the blame.

A young lady golfer called Gayle
Whose swing was an uncontrolled flail,
Her iron shots lacked style
At her putting you’d smile,
I tell you though, when she stands on that tee with the sun coming
through her dress you can see . . . . what? . . . . oh yes, sorry . . .
But she wins every comp without fail.

A priest and a nun in Berlin
Skipped mass to get eighteen holes in,
At confession alas
It was not the missed mass,
But their nineteenth hole game was the sin.

God said to a bloke on the tee
“Just whack it and leave it to me,”
When it went in the rough
God whispered, “That’s tough,
But they’re all mad those who claim they hear me.”

Major Smyth-Pugh from the Guards
Could drive over four hundred yards,
His longest was made
With a live hand grenade,
But it left him terribly scarred.

A golfer who came from Saigon
Never stayed in the bar for too long,
At the sound of his name
All present would claim,
Free drinks from our friend Ho Lin Wan.

I’ve played golf on the ice once or twice
And found  the ice is no place to slice,
You can double the distance
‘Cos there’s no real resistance,
And finding lost balls on the ice isn’t nice.

With an uncontrolled sexual surge
To mount his golf bag a man felt the urge,
He was caught in the rough
On his bag in the buff,
‘Cos he’d left his pants on the verge.

A lady golfer in Spain
Found she had golf on the brain,
In he dream gripped her wood
Swung as hard as she could,
Her husband can still fell the pain.

A lady golfer near Chester
Claimed the captain had tried to molest her,
When the case came to court
His defence was quite short,
“It was at her own behest Sir!”

He stormed the course like a rocket
With, such a score  no one could top it,
Whilst cleaning his shoes
His wife broke the news,
He’d gone home with his card in his pocket.

A course laid for Idi Amin
Ensured that he always would win,
The crocs at this venue
Had you on the menu,
If you foolishly ever outdrove him.