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There once was a widow from here
Who wanted to wander to there
But, oh the gas price
Rose not twice, ’twas trice!
So she settled for crackers and beer.


There once was a plump, purplish plum
Who spent languorous days in the sun,
He shriveled and dried
Then rose up with pride,
And said, “Now I’m a prune, I must run.”


Ah, the limerick challenge. Always such fun. With journey as a topic and alliteration as a device, I traveled in a couple of different ways.