From May 9 to June 27, the Enquirer published more than 500 limericks about the 17-year Brood X cicadas in the newspaper and on our Web site.

Thursday, members of the editorial board had lunch with some of the grand prize winners, whose limericks were selected as the best. They're listed below in alphabetical order.

The winners

The cicada causeth thy conscience to search
So ye not leave thy soul in a lurch
Next seventeenth year
Ye may not be here
So you'd better start goin' to church
Kurt Bofinger
Anderson Township

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There was a gang from Brood (e)X
A noisy bunch of insects
They were eager to mate
And it sealed their fate
Rigor mortis was their last reflex
Virginia Bucher
Hyde Park

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There was a cicada called Joe
Who was captured while flying too slow
But with a quick toss
In a sweet butter sauce
He's now the poor man's escargot
Pat Busse
Aurora, Ind.

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The cicada is hard to avoid
Prepare to be daily annoyed
Those buggy red eyes
And incredible size
A hideous fly on steroids
Ellie Cook, age 11
Sycamore Township

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There once was a toddler named Doug
Who picked up a sharp stick and dug
His mom turned around
At a gross, gagging sound
And heard: "Ma! I sick! Ate a bug!"
Ellen Curtin
Fort Thomas

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The last cicada alive was named Fred,
Who speculated a lot then dropped dead
"The party was great while it lasted,
I needed longer to get blasted,
At least until Labor Day," he said
Chuck Deuser
Indian Hill

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A swarm of cicadas is like a maze
You must traverse through all the ghoulish haze
They will block your way
Throughout all the day
Please avoid them by going the right ways
Bryan Eltzroth, age 12
Reading

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There once was a cicada named Ed
Who climbed from his warm, earthy bed
He looked up to find
A mate to entwine,
When a bird swooped and lopped off his head
Christopher Mason
Anderson Township

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A cicada from Over-the-Rhine
Emerged craving and hoping to find
Some Graeter's and ribs
With plenty of bibs
And a stogie Ted Gregory left behind
Dan Null
West Chester Township

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There once was a cicada named Sam
Who yearned to be ground into Spam
After a 17-year wait,
Sam, with mate, met his fate
But now could proclaim, "Spam I am!"
Elaine Rauckhorst
Oxford

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I love cookin' up them cicaders
I eat 'em with my mashed potaters
They're good when they're fried,
But for regional pride,
They should make 'em a flavor of Graeter's
Stacey G. Woolley
Clifton