Limericks

We've been playing around with a lot of different poems lately, and it occurred to me that we hadn't done any limericks in ages. 

The only problem with reading limericks, of course, is that then you want to write limericks!

There once was a Frenchman named Mace
Who was running a Highlander's pace.
"Is my lead big?" he cried.
"Wee." a Scotsman replied.
So he slowed, and, as such, lost the race.

There was a young hero from France
Who just couldn't learn how to dance
He'd gotten the fame
After saving the dame
But he still lost his chance at romance.

There once was a monster, gargoyle
Who personally felt in turmoil.
For he had been shot
Then stuffed in a pot
And now was beginning to boil.
 
There was a young lady from Spain
Who always drove in the same lane.

She drove on the right
With clear Spanish sight
But in England, she created
much pain.