by Loui Tucker
As I lie in bed at night waiting for sleep to come, I often compost limericks. Below are a few of my favorites.
They have been published in the National Folk Organization's News as well as the California Folk Dance Federations' Let's Dance! mazagine.
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My late husband hailed from New Paltz
Of course the man had his faults
He drank and he swore
He gambled, he snored
But Lord, that man sure could waltz!
There was a young fellow named Lance
Zillertaller Laendler was his favorite dance
He'd twist and he'd bend
More than a doctor would recommend
Now he's paying for his exuberance
There was a young dancer named Trish
It had long been her most fervent wish
Not a waltz, not a hambo
Not a čoček, not a pravo
She wanted a man who could schottish
Want to dance all night?
A pravo's for me
For others it's a kolo or trite puti
Čačak or čoček
Perhaps a syrto’s your thing
But the music says, “Dance and be free!”
There
was a young man from the coast
Who
liked line dancing the most
He'd boogie and he d scoot
He'd holler and he'd hoot
“I'm the best in the West” was his boast
I
knew when his eyes met mine
And his hand found its place on my spine
That
our bodies would blend
And I'd not want it to end
The embrace of the tango's divine.
Waltzing with Pigs
Don’t try to waltz with a pig
They are pretty good at a jig
Try the twist, or the mambo
They can hula or hambo
Just don’t try to waltz with a pig
A pig can be kindly; a pig can be cute
A pig can play the trumpet, violin, or lute
But a pig can’t waltz
It’s hardly a pig’s fault
With two left feet and four boots