Cliche,the limericks

Cliches are boring to  hear

Like, why is that spoon in your ear?

We must  make things new

Or give a fresh view.

I will stir my tea now,with a spear.

My father kept spoons in his hat

For often he wore a wool cap.

When Ma wanted teaspoons

He told her  he’d resume

When all of the spoons were quite  flat

Your love is a rose,I am sure

But why not use a new type of flower?

My love is a   frog

We sing in a bog.

Then we sing  once again on the hour.