Spent yesterday preparing a short story, a novella, and three poems for writing contests. Deadline for entry was midnight. I had the last of them turned in by 9 PM. Now it is up to the judges, the skill of the writing, some luck, and whether or not I scared off enough other potential entrants. Yes, I am kidding about the last part. I have no idea who else entered. I wanted to enter a non-fiction writing contest, but did not have my entry ready in time. Oh, well, maybe another time.
So, here is a bit of silliness for a Sunday morning (at least morning where I am right now), a limerick inspired by someone who suggested they should be naughty.
There once was a woman from Port Townsend
who traveled quite far and came home again.
Now by day she styles hair
and by night styles with care
words about her “new” life with family and friends.
I know, it’s not naughty. Maybe the next one.
Booker's Blog 
I like it.
I am glad to read that you like the limerick. Not all of them need be naughty, but they should all have at least a sense of fun or playfulness about them. One time, I did use the limerick form to tell a story. Took about twelve limerick “verses,” but it was fun to do.
I think I have a soft spot for naughty limericks, they are the first forms of poetry I remember as a child. I don’t know if that says more about me or my family.
Maybe it just says you like poetry and that happened to be the first poetry you remember hearing. Or maybe there is something about the word play and the “naughtiness” that appeals to you. After all, the sexiest organ in the body is above the neck.