The Frenchman

This is just a simple, silly little group of limericks
combined in a poem that I wrote awhile back.

There was a young man from France,
Who over-starched his pants.
He went to the ball,
Could not move at all.
His pants were too stiff to dance.

So, he took a liquid filled cup,
And splashed around like a pup.
He splashed his pants,
Did a little dance,
And soon he was jiggin' it up!

So he danced on into the night,
Despite his splashy sight.
He had so much fun,
His partner he spun,
And gave her a terrible fright!

© Gloria Lassich