There was a young author from Maine
Whose prose was exceedingly plain.
So he learned how to dance
But tripped on his pants,
And now he must walk with a cane.
~Anonymous
There once was a man from ____________(8)
___________________________________(8)
___________________________________(5)
___________________________________(5)
___________________________________(8)
There once was a man from the Bronx
Who collected seashells and conchs
He goes to the shore
Instead of the store
And when he drives by his car honks.
~Nature Weaver
There, that's mine. Now it's your turn.....