The rhymes must be conservatively-political, an original parody to a genuine child's Mother Goose verse, fairly literate (after your own fashion, heheh)......and if your creation stinks, I'll tell ya so.
In fact, I may even donate an extra twenty for the WORST Mother Freep nursery rhyme posted.
When I reach my contribution limit, the contest is over.
See my rhyme on # 12 for some inspiration. You'll get the drift.
So, gooses and ganders, start your poetic quacks NOW.
And make sure your own contribution is in the mail before your dog eats it.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How do babies grow?
In silver bells with cockle shells
All lined up in a row?
Mummy, Mummy, don't be dummy
That's a lot of schlock
If I told you what they teach grade two
You'd drop dead from the shock
Leni
Woo hoo!! Thank you, MinuteGal!!
Baa, baa, Freep sheep,
Have you any moolah$
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags fullah;
One for my master,
One for my dame,
And a big one for Jim Rob,
to keep us all sane.
Ready?
OK, here goes!
This is the original:
And here is my Conservative rhyme:
I worked half the night on that.
Since that was really easy, I'll try another. You are going to call me butter, cause I am on a roll...
My version:
That might make the worst one. Hey, I am havin' fun trying for FR here, OK? :-)
(I am a monthly donor..who wants to donate MORE...alas..we haven’t the funds....but I hope this earns FR a $5.00..and THANK YOU...if you want more...let me know..)
:-)
(3 blind Mice)...
Come home from work...
Take off the shoes..
Sit in the chair..
Turn on the news...
Become disgusted with what I see.
It’s just more blather from ABC.
There must be something better for me...
Than the Mainstream 3....
Turn on the Dell...
Look on the net...
Find a place to read..
which won’t make me fret...
Free Republic is where it’s at...
some values I like......(and a Viking Cat!!)...
Freep-a-thons keep the coffers fat...
and let FReepers chat...
There was an old lady
who lived in a shoe,
Let me tell ya, brother,
she knew just what to do —
She cooked up some broth,
and whipped out her bread —
got ready to hit the grassroots
to send the lefties off to bed.
Hey diddle, diddle,
The President fiddled;
The Cow sang a Socialist tune;
The two of them laughed,
At the impotent courts,
And the Cow ran away with the spoons.