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Something for Everyone

A Volume of Eclectic

Poetry and Limericks


Caron Rider



This short collection of poems and limericks is eclectic in nature and not to be taken too seriously. If you are familiar with Abbot and Costello, you will see where some of my inspiration came from for my limericks. If you are not familiar with the comic duo, you should avail yourself of some of their more humorous monster movies. They’re great family fun. As for the poetry, inspiration was a wild wind that blew me hither and yon. I’ve written about love, cats, parents, pirates, magic and much, much more (often with tongue in cheek).

Some of this comes from when I was quite young and a teenager. As I write my novels for the teens of this world, I thought I’d share my poor efforts in the hope of entertainment and inspiration. After all, if I can do this, just think what you can do.

And I challenge you to challenge each other to limerick writing contests! More fun is not to be had.

Something for Everyone

Staring at a blank page

I wait for inspiration to hit.

I don’t expect a bomb explosion,

But perhaps a small candle could be lit.

By this glowing light

Words will maybe rise,

And for recognition fight.

It doesn’t matter in what guise.

You could let a soft sigh escape.

You might be able to laugh or cry or both.

By some remote chance your heart might stop.

But for you to just sit there, I would loathe.

A poem or lyric I would create;

Something for everyone to enjoy.

But it might not be my fate

For people to notice the great.

The Rumor

It starts in all innocence

But quickly blows out of proportion.

Now friends are no longer there

And it seems distinctly unfair.

It has to do with a feeling of betrayal.

I told him we forever worried

About something his friend had said.

Now his friend, he would see buried.

We should always remember, not forget,

About that old tangled web we weave

And the misunderstandings that can happen.

So your friends you should never leave.

They say there’s a grain of truth

At the center of any legend.

So if we could sift through the hate,

A great friendship might not end.

Disappearing Magic

No longer do our children relish an old fable.

Myth and legend no longer surround truth.

No longer can the witch curse sooth.

The oppressed no longer have a hero who is able.

Robin and Zorro have long been gone.

How can we stand to face the dawn?

The child believes in the tooth fairy till he’s six.

He believes there are monsters until he’s eight.

Why have people become such cynics?

Is there no magic we can create?

There are no more dragons and no more knights.

Now maids can be men and men can be maids—such sights!

Magic and the romantic have nearly died.

All the superstitions of yore we must hide.

Most tend to forget, except for the dabblers,

The ancient folklore and tales of old;

Those legends that were carried by travelers.

The myths that are as valuable as gold.

But I still believe in the bad erlking.

I believe in Arthur’s old sorcerer Merlin.

I think you need to search for the lost treasure,

Then you’ll never know the boundaries of pleasure.

I know for I am almost the last romantic,

And I believe in all types of magic.

Poetic Magic

Perhaps it is the sorcerer’s services one needs to seek.

It’s not of the witch with her spiders and bats that I speak.

But of the maker of magic in his purple robes,

He who can enchant and ensorcel one’s very hopes.

The wizard examines his spells on a list

While candle smoke controls the dragon’s mist.

The spirit searches throughout the stars;

He’d never use those mundane cars.

To the world old childhood tales

He will bring without fail.

Beware the full moon

Should it mean doom.

Never fear!




We are the old salts;

The rogues of the sea.

We don’t wish to know how to waltz,

We don’t want to hear of a lea.

We live from the use of the sword and dagger

Courageously wielded as we loot and plunder.

We strike terror from head to feet

In the romantic souls we meet,

And the dreams are crushed of the swashbuckler.

We are cutthroats with nasty dispositions.

We fight many cowards as well as the oceans.

We who sail under the skull and crossbones

Survive only by the grace of Davy Jones.

Shy and Unsure

I have many so-called friends.

But out of all I know, you are the best.

I think I’ll trust you to the end.

Never hurt me intentionally, please,

A break in my confidence would not mend.

Many people think me amusing.

They don’t realize it’s a cover up

That behind I am always musing.

The real me they never know.

Perhaps they’re the ones losing.

I am hidden deep inside.

I creep out only when alone.

Only in you do I confide.

Should you tell anyone else,

I’ll know I was wrong; you lied.

The Young Heart

You’ll never catch me pining

For where the grass is greener.

I can see that silver lining

For I am the young dreamer.

Many friends say my heart

Has control over my head.

But you see, little cupid’s dart

Gives my feet wings instead of lead.

With my type of nature

I do rash and impulsive things.

And end up getting a lecture.

All the same, my heart simply sings.

My feet I must keep on the ground,

My head down out of the clouds.

It’s awfully hard I’ve found

To be like all the ordinary dowds.

I love all types of life.

I want to be where love is rife.

You can trust me with your soul

For I’d never leave you broken; only whole.

After Dark

As night leisurely descends

Eyelids start to close.

Little girls see pretty dolls.

Little boys see soldiers’ pose.

The stars wink into being.

A light mist shadows their brightness.

They seem to be just a fuzzy glow

That touches you with infinite lightness.

And the moon rises slowly into the starlit heaven.

He softly caresses his reflection

Out upon the silvery waves of ocean

And thinks there could be no other of such perfection.



The fairytale folk now

Exist in our imagination.

They’ve passed from the real world

Into a fictitious dream nation.

We go to the land of fantasy,

And in this vision of make believe

Myth and legend have become as one

Though have no intention to deceive.

If you are one of the so called lucky ones

You’ll receive some of the magic we should all find.

So sleep well after the bedtime story

For there is no escape from your mind.

Crescent Moon

Green September gone to October brown,

Fair November led to December’s frozen ground.

The seasons stumble round,

Our drifting lives are bound

To a falling crescent moon.

Fair the clouds cry the veil of tears to earth,

Morning gray time, no one sees a bird’s quiet mirth.

Dressed in a brand new day,

The sun is on its way

To a falling crescent moon.

Somewhere in a fairytale forest lies

One answer that is waiting to be heard.

It speaks to us of love

Flying in on the wings of a dove

To a falling crescent moon.

You and I were born like the breaking day.

All our seasons, all our green September’s burn away.

Slowly we’ll fade on our cue

Into the sea of midnight blue

And a falling crescent moon.


Down through the ages time has past.

Looking into the future time will be.

The legends we look to at last,

And see we must struggle free.

But to the present, time is loyal.

Life has an ever changing cast.

To slip along the road causes a coil,

For we race down it far to fast.

Rules and judgments, attempt to foil,

The time has come, you see,

No matter if our hands we soil,

To pick up the threads of destiny.

Out of Touch

Man dreams of what he will never attain.

He is bound within the fence;

He is grounded by the chain.

Reality is his only defense;

But he never tries to fight

Since I shine so very bright.

Man grasps for that which he cannot reach.

So come man and long for me.

He searches diligently for that ripe peach;

The fruit that will set man free.

He yearns from afar

For I am a star.

PG: Parental Guidance

Who is to say that the parent is discreet?

Certainly not the child when their ideas do not meet.

Parents say they deny the child his way,

Only out of love, so will not sway.

I know I’ve been spoiled almost totally rotten,

And everything I’ve wanted, I’ve nearly always gotten.

My parents have and will forever trust in me.

It’s the other guy that eye to eye they don’t see.

But my friends, sometime soon they must let us go!

We can be strangled and smothered by them saying no.

I realize that they care and always worry about me,

But when you’ve been caged too long, you only want to be free.


If One Day

If we should one day meet,

I know for a certainty

Our feelings couldn’t be beat.

Of you, I’ll never be unsure.

If I should say,

I very much love you,

You can believe me,

because it’s only too true.

If I should cause you pain,

to you I’ll say I’m sorry,

For any excuse would sound lame

only ‘cause I love you.

If you should cause me pain,

You will have everything to lose

And absolutely nothing to gain,

Since I fight back word for word.

If you should happen to say

That you desperately love me,

Together we will grow strong

And discover the power of we.


A Hit and Run Accident

It strikes a blow

From out of nowhere.

One’s dizzy from the blast.

It hits one solo.

As inspiration says hello,

One’s just been run over

And one wishes to sink

Into the ground below.

The creative juices flow

Throughout body and soul.

One feels so very smart

And inside there’s a warm glow.

One seems thoroughly mellow

After the deed is done.

So maybe after all

Inspiration is a pretty nice fellow.

Happiness is Unplanned

Have you wondered why

Well made plans go awry?

It’s planned to the last detail

And things go wrong without fail.

But the unexpected is fun.

You can run in the sun

Or maybe play in the rain.

The unplanned always seems insane.

To yield to an impulse

People think that’s crazy.

But those who’re not spontaneous

Are just so darn lazy.

Dream Away

Dreams come true

Only for the believer.

They call for you

With a choice to be made.

Dreams are meant to last

Into the future

And out of the past,

Never to be gone.

To me the dream means hope.

There’s color wherever I turn.

Throughout life I’ll not mope.

There’s lots I still have to learn.

For some the dream leaves

Since the glitter of the world deceives,

But for those who see rainbows

The dream forever shows.

Feline Friends

A bowl of milk

Or a saucer of cream

Is all it takes to win

The paw of a feline friend.

As they play, they lay in wait

To pounce on unsuspecting prey.

They are so very graceful

Leaping from sofa to chair.

They’re such loving creatures

All furry, though clawed,

And streaked with independence,

So warm, protective, and caring

A hand out-stretched

To help, pet or love

Is all it takes to win

The paw of a feline friend.

The Ode Cliché

A far cry from all and sundry

that is the born loser.

By and large each and every day

he uses determination.

He uses brute force.

He is down and out.

On the spot with hat in hand,

man to man he learns the facts of life.

And rain or shine, the powers that be

attempt to wrest from him a square meal.

Sooner or later past his salad days,

almost at the eleventh hour,

life seems as the sour grapes.

With him it’s touch and go.

And by the time he can smell a rat

the sad awakening has begun;

the naïve has become worldly wise.

Therefore, step by step,

his is a dog’s life.

While attempting to gild the lily,

the true blue go up in arms

and set off a hue and cry.

But though he values their judgment,

all cannot be well and good.

So when they shout, “Hold the fort!”

He returns with, “Hold your own!”

Mark my words, to pay the piper

takes a lion’s share to make good.

Now or never the rank amateur

must pull the strings of life.

So in a nutshell or in a word,

we all must be to live and learn.


Come near and gather around.

I want you by; I want you close.

I’m gonna give you some memories

In just a little tiny dose.

Most everyone seems to know of Robin Hood.

They say he fought for justice and truth,

Gave to the poor nearly all of his loot.

You’d never find him being weird or uncouth.

The poor old sheriff of Nottingham,

To find Robin he would’ve given more than a dime.

But the peasants and even the trees protected him.

What did it matter if Robin led a life of crime?



See those papers, books, and things

Strewn about the floor

I could tell you who resides here

Or must you know some more?

No, it’s not a plumber

Nor a salesman nor a fighter.

It’s just a simple, loving soul,

A harmless limerick writer.

Limericks are really great and terrific fun to write.

Especially since one doesn’t have to be too awfully bright.

So come on and join in,

You don’t have to be kin.

If you try hard perhaps you’ll even get it right.

Be sure your fingers and toes are available,

So that you can count every darn syllable.

One, two and five must make a rhyme,

Three and four must be in time.

If they’re not, Langford Reed will make you liable.


Langford Reed (1889-1954)

His tombstone reads:

There once was a fellow named Reed,

Who knew that the world had a need,

For limericks and fun,

And all hearts he won,

Since laughter and joy were his creed.

The laughter and joy will not die,

As angels laugh with him on high,

While we here on Earth

Should cultivate mirth.

‘Tis better to laugh than to cry.

Miscellaneous Limericks


The bumble bee loves to hum and to sing,

Happily flitting to flowers by wing.

But stay out of reach

Or your skin he’ll breach,

And trust me to know of his painful sting.



You are warmed all over by your cover,

The cold can do nothing except hover.

But then news came, your guy

He decided to drop by.

And now you snuggle close with your lover.



At one time there was a big bad troll.

He lived right inside a snow crowned knoll.

This is really something neat,

They say you are what you eat.

Now he looks just like a little mole.

Story of Jack the Ripper

Jack the Ripper, blade at hand, was really quite chipper

He just loved to kill by the light of the big dipper.

Merrily slashing through life,

With a great big, bloody knife,

While out onto the road spilled one’s guts from the zipper.

Now the coppers didn’t much care for ol’ Jack.

They seemed to think a touch of finesse he lack.

But don’t let him hear

Or it’s you who’ll fear,

For he would rejoice to give you a hack.

So one must always live in dread,

Fearful one will lose one’s head.

With the strength of a team

He’s really very mean,

And when angered, he just sees red!

But one dark and lonely night when crime was rife,

A man stood over my bed with a knife.

I got extremely mad

And did something quite bad,

Now the Ripper no longer has a life!


The wolfman was not really naughty,

But folks always treated him shoddy!

For you see, just as soon

As he saw a full moon,

He grew eyebrows all over his body!

The wolfman is a jolly old fellow

Though he can’t play the flute or the chello.

He sleeps in at noon

Then he sings with the moon.

But in a night club he’d make folks bellow.

The Invisible Man

You’ve all heard of the Invisible Man,

Though you may or may not be his fan.

Like us, he can run

And have fun in the sun,

But he gets mad ‘cause he can’t get a tan.

So you see he takes no flack,

Though I doubt he would attack.

If it’s you he should slap

Give it up in a snap,

For you can’t see him to hit back.

The Invisible Man could be a newt,

For all we know, he might be sort of cute.

While he’s wrapped in his bandages

I don’t know how he manages.

Do you think he’ll tell or just be mute?



Here is a monster you’d best beware.

Yes, indeed, you’d better have a care.

I’d say you should run

‘cause this won’t be fun.

But you can stay if you will, if you dare.

Frankenstein had never been exactly bad,

But then he heard he’d been royally had!

For it seemed, his sprockets

Sent eyes popping from sockets,

Which made everyone think of him as a cad!

Frankenstein’s not so bad, for you see,

He’s human just like you and me.

But his doctor wanted fun,

So Frank is really more than one.

His parts came from a body shop for free!

Frankie had once had a friend.

She promised her love ‘til the end.

But she left him one day

Not a word did she say.

Alas, his poor heart did not mend.


The Mummy

Here is one with whom you should not get chummy

For you see this man is no dummy.

When you see all that wrapping,

Your heart starts rat-a-tapping.

He’s your friendly neighborhood mummy.

He won’t go into much of a tirade.

Or attack from above with an air raid.

It’s just bandages are itchy

And they make him quite witchy.

What he needs is a great big bandaid!

Mummy go home to your coffin.

We don’t want you ‘round so often.

It’s later than you think

So be gone in a wink,

Before we have time to soften.


The Creature from the Black Lagoon

The Creature from the Black Lagoon wasn’t all that mucky,

In fact, some people thought he was absolutely ducky.

But you see, he sinned

Even though he was finned,

He thought no other creature could be quite so lucky!

To have with Blacky a date

Was your one ultimate fate.

What matter if he drips

As his cocktail he sips?

So hurry and don’t be late!

He comes from a land that’s awfully foggy.

The carpet wherever he goes is left soggy.

There’s a secret we shouldn’t leak,

But we can be just so darn weak!

It’s that he has the breath of a small doggy.

Just the same, he is a really macho guy.

The girls sure go for him and I don’t know why.

His teeth are kind of jagged,

But their breathing is ragged.

Then they tear off his weeds and happily sigh.

I suppose if you held your nose to the dead fish smell

As a cool date and a slick friend he would simply be swell.

He will take you dancing

And off you’ll be prancing.

Just be careful, stomp on his foot and his toes will jell.



Godzilla doesn’t seem one for fun.

He prefers water to land and the sun

He only comes out once daily

And ‘cause his body is scaly

If you saw him, you’d turn and run.

Much good-luck to Godzilla and friends.

May your fun never come to an end.

Just remember as you splash through

The Japanese seas so very blue,

All the damage, you alone shall mend.


Once upon a time there was an old bat.

Dracula thought himself a real cool cat!

He would wait ‘til night to fly.

He was quite a partying guy,

But we all know that he was just a rat.

Now Dracula’s really not that bad

He has lots of reasons to be sad.

When he flies down from the girder

Folks loudly scream bloody murder,

And that’s enough to make anyone mad.

The old vampire, Count Dracula, looked quite sad,

He’d found out that sucking blood wasn’t the fad.

Just the same, at each midnight

He’d be sure to give someone a bite

He’d take anyone, no matter if one was lass or lad.

He really must not be well.

What he wants, he’ll not tell.

Your home he’ll wreck,

Suck blood from your neck,

And leave you saying, “What the hell?”

Be sure to keep an eye out on the sky.

In case it’s a bat instead of a fly.

You’d think he was a punk

Should he take from you a chunk,

So be careful or you’ll be left to die.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Now here is some information that should be gleaned.

Someone’s been turning into a terrible fiend.

You’ll get a bad fright

If you’re out at night.

So please take care or it’ll be you who gets beaned.

I know a man, his name isn’t Clyde

Nor is it Lyle nor Brooks nor Tyde.

I’ll give you a clue

He’s the makings of two,

He’s Dr. Jekyll and his friend Mr. Hyde.

Now Jekyll and Hyde are a pair.

Friends to the end if you dare.

If you follow you’ll see

Their split personality

To separate them wouldn’t be fair.

Dr. Jekyll was sweet and kind.

Mr. Hyde was an awful find.

While Jekyll took a doze,

Hideous Hyde arose;

Then they were in a dreadful bind.

Dr. Jekyll works during the day

But at night Mr. Hyde goes to play.

He runs through the night

Giving people a fright

Ghouling and drooling where he may.



Initially Caron Rider started teaching computer software, hardware, and networking in the 1990s. After some years that morphed into tutoring high school dropouts for the GED. She found working with at-risk teenagers so rewarding that she changed her undergraduate major to Education.

Upon graduating from the University of South Alabama, she began teaching high school history. She now lives in rural Missouri with her two kids, two dogs, two cats, six chickens and her father where she works on her novels for young adults and the young at heart.

She can be contacted through her website:


Other Books by Caron Rider

Silver Knight

Book 1 of The Silver Series

Published: December 2011

When seventeen-year-old Diana recognizes an elderly priest in a video on YouTube, she realizes that reincarnation is real and that she’s been alive before! Every night in her dreams, she relives her past learning that it’s kill or be killed. Now a bishop at the Vatican whom she saved in another life calls on her once more. She is needed to help defeat evil within the catacombs of Rome. But when she arrives in Rome, she meets Alexander – the man of her dreams! Through the centuries she has loved him…betrayed him...been killed by him. Will she give him another chance or this time will she strike first?

Available for sale at:


Barnes and Noble

Be sure to read the first chapter on her website:

Silver Demon

Book 2 of The Silver Series

Diana and her friends are back for more. An aggravating vice principal, Internet dating, and stalking demons are just a few of the challenges facing Diana, Sam and Maggie their senior year. With Alexander posing as Alex Black, a police officer in Diana’s hometown of Springfield, things really get heated up! Join them for another adventure that will ultimately lead them back to Rome.


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