Roses are redish,
Violets are blueish,
If it wasn't for Christmas,
We'd all be Jewish.

There once was an old man of Esser,
Whose knowledge grew lesser and lesser,
It at last grew so small
He knew nothing at all,
And now he's a college professor.

There was a young man named Wyatt
whose voice was exceedingly quiet
And then one day
it faded away...

The once was a young girl from Norway
Who hung by her feet from the doorway;
Which worked out quite well,
'Cause when you rang her bell,
It actually turned out to be foreplay!

There once was a poet named Dan,
Who's poetry never would scan.
When told this was so,
He said, "Yes, I know"
"It's because I try to put every possible syllable into the very last 
line that I can" !!