An odd curiosity is the pun, not appreciated by everyone.
As one’s sophistication rises,
the pun can yield even more surprises.
‘Though some lines below may not be strictly pun,
you’ll enjoy good laughs long before you’re done.

A play on words toward humorous end,
the pun is getting popular - it’s a groan trend.
Was Beethoven sym-phony guy?
And Chopin - was etude dumb?
I dreamt that my pal became a fish, but I was still his chum.

A fellow name Yan, with first name of Mung
remained in politics at the bottom rung.
Changed his first name to Moe and for Congress ran.
Moral of the story: “Moe best Mung Yan.”

Put uncle’s wife out in the cold to watch antifreeze.
He was a pirate tenor - murder on the high C’s.
A happy animal is every cat owner’s purr-puss.
About to play a piano duet, Caesar said: “Etude, Brutus?”

He called her Barbie, ‘cause she was quite a doll;
she moved to a tiny isle; he hardly saw her atoll.
The mathematician’s gall was without limit;
she dated a guy Rocky and took him for granite.

Though a genius in whatever he did,
Mozart was really a sonata-nose kid.
My favorite person was my maternal grandma;
loved to dance, but had one leg, so she could only cha.

My girl-friend was a valet, a real door-belle,
her name was Oil, and I knew her well.
Tom and Joan had a blast the other night,
but Joan didn’t love him, although Dinah might.

My gal, named Nina, is really a 10.
The computer nerd fell, and slipped a disk again.
The math professor loved his x; to please her, he did try;
but she said she didn’t love him; he knew not the reason y.

She was en-armored with her knight; he was loyal and true.
My middle initial is B, and my girl Vitamin’s B2.
A lady always goes to the salon to have her cuts,
and neutered dogs, of course, become nixed mutts.

A French girl I know was a blabbermouth;
at least she didn’t brag.
She was told a secret once, but let the chat out of the bag.
Van, the artist, for his wedding was a no-show;
he wasn’t at home; now where did Van Gogh?

Perhaps he went shopping in the art galleries of the day,
but I doubt if he bought anything, for he had no Monet.
He promised to meet his love at the next day’s start;
he’d go to any studio with her because he liked Mozart.

There’s the lady who went to see
a famous composer one day,
but he declared he could not see her
because he was too Bizet.
They later went to the opera - it was La Traviata, you see;
they loved the music score, but the lyrics were too Verdi.

This coffee tastes like mud because it was ground first.
Bad prose, however terse,
needs only rhyme to make it verse.
Of movie stars, I could not care less;
I just don’t relate to idolness.
Although a bad tailor, he suits me;
she’s a shift boss at an auto factory.

The bulldozer operator went to work each day
in his evening clothes.
Omit Jane’s flute but don’t banjoes.
Amy’s friends go where amigos.
Marie was married to an ailing gunman,
and no one was cuter,
but she didn’t flinch from threatening admirers
with her sick shooter.

The dish ran away with the spoon, but melons cantelope.
You played the chopper’s waltz in tree-quarter time, I hope.
Finally, did Bogey say in Greece to the fair Ingrid,
“It’s been good to know you; so here’s looking at Euclid.”
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