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Pea and Honey Recipes
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I Eat My Peas With Honey
And tales of derring-do.
Four lines, they can be rhyming
(That's Glow Worms to me and you).
Ending line is as usual.
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I'd whizz and whizz and whizz and whizz
Spinning leguminous goop
I'm getting very lazy
I put it down to age
I think much more before I do
Because my bird escaped its cage.
I drank a Bloody Mary
I won't do that again
It was full of tomato juice
Alas, it had no gin.
I wish it would stop raining
Assuming a missing line
penelope - I wish it would stop raining
Software - My hair is getting wet
That damp-dog odour follows me
I smell just like a pet!
I wish I were a business card
So slick like Fonzarelli
I'd hand myself out at the pub
Too bad they're watching telly
I wish I were a vuvuzela
Buzzing all day long
'Twould even kill Methuselah
Can so many be so wrong?
I wish I were on holiday
Amidst the snowy peaks
Alas I am in Basingstoke
Amidst the yobs and freaks
I like my pies with gravy
Deep fried with mushy peas
Gastronomic'lly I'm cheap
And not difficult to please
I wish I'd put yeast in my dough
My bread has gone all flat
Can water possibly make it grow?
Nah ... Let's stuff it with fat!
Now tear along the dotted line
At sixty miles an hour
Veer not to either left or right
Just go straight full power.
I wish I were a football match
Shown on ITV
With ad breaks for consumer goods
The money'd go to me!
We play the vuvuzela with
With England on our mind
Just add a swannee whistle and
(Anyone for a swannee-vuvuzela performance?)
And you'll go deaf and blind    Wait. "Swannee whistle" is a euphemism, right?
I wish I were a scarecrow
Standing in a sunny field
I'd buy all the suntan lotion
Until everybody peeled!
The poppy fields are my domain
They earn me quite a packet
So I'll defend them might and main
Against a Cosa Nostra racket
I wish I were a football
Just kicked around by all
Except, that is, the England team
Or that of nearby Gaul.
A football should be round and firm
Just like an apricot
Which should be sweet of taste in turn
– Reject it if it's not
I was sort of hoping for "Just like a football's not".

I wish you'd never shown me
How not to kick that ball
Then I'd not have played for England
And come home with f*ck all .. moving swiftly on ...
I wish I were a clothes peg
Clamped tightly on your knickers
A freshening breeze blows up your leg sorry sorry sorry
Quite startling passing vicars
American Football's what Charlie Brown would play
But the ball he would kick is shaped more like an egg
But Gordon Brown played rugby with an oval ball bit clunky, this
And Lord George-Brown would never budge from square leg. "Many modern poems are like bells of lead. They should tinkle melodiously, but usually they just klunk." (Dunsany) Can we tinkle a little more melodiously, please?
I wish melodious tinkles would
Less often splash the seat [irach] That's what you were angling for, isn't it?
But sitting isn't manly
When your trochees touch your feet
I wish I were a radio mic
Attached to Gordon Brown oblig.
Then I could let the whole world know
Why governments fall down mercy
I wish my suitcase would come back
From far-off Timbuktu
Alas, its British Airways - from bitter experience
So my bag's now in Peru
I wish I'd never mentioned
My girl-friend to my Mum
As now she wants to meet her
And then become her chum
I wish I were a conker (Softers) This has happened to me in the past. It is Not Good.
A hundreder at least
With n'eer a dent upon me
I'd slay the slimy beast!
I wish I were a croûton
Dunked in hot onion soup
From then I'd become soggy
And lost in all the gloop.
I wish I was in England just got off the ferry from Hull this morning and feeling very foreign here again - but managed to use my clumsy Dutch to ask for change to use the car wash - hurrah!
Drinking brown English ale
Watching cricket in the rain[pen] you found someone in the Netherlands that doesn't speak English! Spraken het Netherlands has corrupted your grammar, surely it is subjunctive when one wishes ;o)
And reading The Daily Mail who lives in the United States!
I wish I were made of purple taffeta
All shiny and crisp on the outside, lined with pink satin I'm not sure what metre this is...some sort of pentameter it seems, in a mixture of iambs and amphibrachs
I would look just like Liberace
With a flouncy bag to put my hat in And now, back to normal...
I wish it was steak pie tonight Sausages tonight. Steak pie on Thursday but I'm stewing it now and it smells delish... freezer full of imported English food, y'see
Instead it's bloody sausages A rhyming challenge, but it was forced, really.
But with onions and mash (CdM) Yeah, forced. Chips? I dunno.
I minimise my lossages.
I wish I were in Camelot
With Arthur and his pals
I'd ride a steed and lance a lot
Of the "purty" gals.
I wish I were a cola
Instead, I'm Panda pop
I'm not the drink, I'm the game!
And my scansion seems to drop
My fizz and sparkle all leached out
Upon these barren shores
So back to Ramsgate I must sail
And clean my facial pores!
I wish that flotsam didn't float
And jetsam would just sink
But water, it is just too dense
Though fish ne'er touch the brink!
I wish I were a hosepipe
But not while there's a drought
I like to spout, not dribble
And wear my knickers inside-out!
My water-butts are all quite full
Of slime and rotting leaves
So into it you thus must luzz
Wot a tangled ryme we weaves!
There isn't time to start the day
The sun is still asleep
And so am I
Deep
My snore, I'm told, is very loud
I could wake the dead.
And, alas, my other half
Takes someone else to bed sorrysorrysorry
I wish I were the Ace of Spades (pen) Yeah, me too. Farting.
For I so love to dig
I'd dig for diamonds and win hearts
And spend time in the brig.
I wish I were in Shangri-la
Or else in Xanadu
Fulham Road just ain't the same
When I am not with you.
Next month I'm getting married
To my cousin's mother's brother
I only really chose him
'Cos oldies, there's no other!
My uncle is the man I married
So therefore we're both gay
My step-kids are my cousins
And **** lots when they play! (I know...so wrong.)
These rhymes are getting pretty racy
We'd better tone it down.
It's time for straight-laced prudence
To shed her straight-lace gown
I wish I were a road hump
I'd slow you down for sure
I'd mess with your suspension
And shake you to the core There is a local road here where the bloody things are so high and narrow that they bottom on my gearbox - grrrrr!
[Software] You can bottom on my gearbox any time
I wish I were a camel's hump
The dromedary kind
A hairy desert-crossing lump
A seat for your behind
I wish the game of Limericks
Would only need four lines
Then that would save on typing
and leave time for shoeshines.
I wish I were a wiener
And on the Danube be
So please don't wish my town goodnight
We waltz til half past three
I wish I were in Amsterdam
Relaxing with a spliff
I'd close my eyes and take a drag
And chase a hippogriff.
I wish a were Geordie (Kag S, Giert)
Hidden text = From north-east England. Agreeable but incomprehensible speech, football-mad, often lacking both sobriety and appropriate clothing etc, etc.
With tons o' kegs 'o beer
I'd never share them with my friends
They're Southerners, thus queer!
Hidden text[Rosie] Take that, old chum :-)
I wish I were a Welshman
Brandishing a leek
I'd be "Leek King" of Casnewydd
I wish I played cassette tapes
With Dolby Stereo sound
But I have just my eight-track
And half a lousy pound.
I wish that pair would go away
You know just who I mean
I think that same thought every day
It's not the king and queen.
I wish a were a candlestick
Hot wax poured down my body
Depilating furtively
I'd hate to be Bill Oddie oblig. What a load of rot. Can we please have some sense in limericks, if that's not an oxymoronic thing to ask?
I wish I was a ninja's sword
Most dangerous to wield
I'd snicker-snack 'til daybreak
While talking to the shield
The vole deserves a mention
For its green and frugal life
As also its fecundity
Who'd be the vole's poor wife?
Let's not forget the porcupine
He's sharp and to the point
But when it comes to making love
It takes much more than 'point and shove' point??? Also, *gets coat*
Now let us praise the noble eel
Anoint it with hot oil
Its slimy length slips down the throat
To in your tummy coil
eeeeuuuuwwwww
The river bed is home to chub
Chubby as chubs can be
A little maggot on a hook
Then supper - yes sirree
Now its time to talk of tench
But not of Angelfish
A tench is just a would-be carp
And makes a tasty dish.
Consider now the salmon
Which jumps upstream to spawn
It has no need for smutty books
Or any brains, just brawn
The cod, a northern waters type
Is tasty? No, that's just hype
But in its time its caused more wars
Than a baby's dirty dipe. Was struggling for a rhyme.
When the Northern Sea gets stormy
And the fishing boats are tossed
The humpback whales start singing
As the the cod find to their cost.
I wish I were a trawlerman Welcome back, Rosie
Battling the icy waves
But I am a much smaller man
A youth who rarely shaves
I wish these piranha lacked teeth
So they would not scan so badly
While swimming by the Barrier Reef
And masticating madly.
The way to treat a gentleman
To keep him on his toes
is to tap him on the shoulder
And recite some bawdy prose
A common chap, it must be said
Stands firm upon the ground
A baseball cap atop his head
His belly large and round.
A man with just a bit of class (or class, depends on where you're from as to how you say it)
Beats a man who just has none
He'll play down his credentials
But you'll know that you've been done
I wish I were an aardvark oblig.
Munching down on yummy ants
Instead I'm just a card shark
Five aces in my pants
I wish I were a kinkajou
It's such a cutesy word
The carcajou is just passé
A wolverine, I've heard.
Among the forest, lives something
Hidden textIt seems that sometimes when people try to rhyme the 1st and 3rd lines, the poems don't scan and they forget that the 2nd and 4th lines should rhyme.
With twenty thousand eyes
But the twenty thousand cataracts
Cause twenty thousand styes
The telly has a broken screen
The rain drips through the roof
There's dry rot in the window frames
And mildew on the pouffe
I wish I had a winning line
For my football pool do they still have those?
I'd keep my secret to myself
And count my cash, and drool.
I've bloody won the jackpot!
In my office sweep
I got the winning ticket
The prize? A blow-up sheep :-(
My di-ri-gi-ble ovine
Gives me a lot of fun
Confusing all the sheepdogs
Sensors (please excuse the pun)
Yesterday was my birthday
The 27th one
Everybody ate lots of turkey
And learned how to write Glowworms
I wish I could knit sweaters
Or even crochet scarves
My bottom might not be so cold
I'll not do things by halves
This trend for shortening player's names
Deserves a special mensh
It makes me an Egyptian god
But I am still a wench.
I feel like I'm a little Greek
Mine suits my occupation
This looks much more malible
But I'm just a negation
Run down and slightly suspect
And suffering with acid
I'm not in my element
And not much good when flassid
I wish I were in Lapland
With Santa and his reindeer
I'd take a curing water bath SO looking forward to the rhyme match on the last line ...
To get rid of this pain, dear
It seems quite elemental
To measure stuff by hand
But in case of more precision
Use a rubber band!
For a pet, I want a unicorn
A griffon or centaur
I shun such things as pussy cats
They leave me wanting more
I wish I were a shovel
In a brawny stoker's hand
Feeding hungry furnaces
Ah! Wouldn't life be grand!
I wish I were a Christmas pud too early?
Made by Blumenthal
Maybe I'd taste really good
If made in the fall!
It seems the snow has cleared at last
Or turnèd into slush
Both arms, one leg in plaster cast
Take heed: on ice don't rush!
The honeymoon is at an end
A split is on the cards
He caught her in the bellboy's arms
Drinking pints and yards Nice pub, the Bellboy's
It seems we never take a break
From standing on our feet
Except when we are lying down
Felled by the icy street
I wish I were an asteroid
Careering round in space
Waiting to be named after
One of the human race
I wish I were a reindeer
I'd rein in all the deer
I'd put vermilion on their snouts
And a tail-light on their rear.
I wish that I had Santa's sack
Full of Christmas goodies
I'd give those reindeer all a smack bah humbug
Like ASBO-worthy hoodies.
I'm flippin' sick of Christmas
How sick? That's so polite!
I've upchucked all my cookies
On Giertrud - out of spite
I wish I were a bottle
Of moonshine or poteen
I'd upchuck all my stomach contents
And turn dear Spangle green.
Hidden textRevenge, sweet revenge.
It's now two-oh-eleven
You had said half-past-eight
On this stairway to heaven
I hate it when you're late.
I wish I were a blowlamp
With a single fiery eye.
Whate'er I looked at would burn up
And in-stan-tally die.
I forgot to wear my underwear
Commando by default
Mercy killing I'm hopeless and I'm childish
A clueless simple dolt
I cannot make the meeting
I'm running rather late
Leaves on the line at Coulsden
Have really clogged the gate.
They say we must work harder
But won't pay a penny more
I've got an empty larder
And rats upon the floor
I only wish the bosses
Could live on crumbs and gruel
This may well cut their losses
Or just shareholders fool
I'd rather be in Timbucktu
Unearthing ancient books
Rather than be a sous chef
One of too many cooks
I say! This broth is spoiled
Waiter, can you catch this fly?
Don't worry, sir, it's boiled
Never mind, I'll take the pie
A Broadway play on tour
Performed by English men
Arrived in Pascagoula
Then quickly left again
This crossword is too cryptic
It would take a cipher whiz
Or that bloke that's down the pub
Who always wins the quiz
This rumpsteak is too chewy
It's made from kangaroo
It's served à la chop suey
Quickly, where's the loo? [Spangle] just what I had in mind
I wish I were a satnav Trad.
Signaled by GPS
I'd have you drive right through a lake
and make you a big mess.
I've ne're time to play this game
For that we're truly pleased
So this line isn't really here
It's just something I sneezed
laughs out loud
I wish I were a sewer rat
Just lolling in the muck
To live in filth is de rigeur
If fragrant you're a schmuck
mercy killing - ain't it curious how some of these little ditties just take off and others hang around like a smell on a landing ..
I wish I were a landing smell yeah... oblig.
Pervading everywhere
My sulphuretted compounds
Would announce Kilroy was there.
I wish I were a poultergeist
A ghost of chickens past
I'd just pull off my drumsticks
Then headlessly run fast
I wish I were a tuba
With a 'normous shiny bell
My basso tones will resonate
And make your life sheer hell. This has sat here for 9 days so I've finished it myself. I wouldn't say it was a particularly difficult one.
I wish I were an endgame Time, gentlemen?
A glow-worm's final thrust
The last bright glimmer in the dark
Arising from the dust
Why kill it? It moves faster than any other game in MC5.
I wish you'd all just go away
I know just what you mean
You're really getting up my nose
Like Elton John, great queen.
My phone ate the "whoops" button
didn't realize we were missing our dividing line
My phone ate the "whoops" button
It thought it was delicious (this is the 2nd line - the first is "my phone at the whoops button)
It tasted of old mutton
Which makes me feel suspicious
I wish to make a statement
That will edify the press:
"I've got loads of money -
Most people have got less."
I wish I were a paintbrush
Thrust deep in thick, thick paint
I'd spread it 'cross your canvas
But an oil painting? You ain't.
I need some inspiration
My mind has drawn a blank
Has anyone got any thoughts
I did have, but they stank.
(Rosie has cleverly made my move look like I forgot the question mark.)
[Knobbers] That's cut-throat competitve poetry for you. Well - doggerel dogfights, anyhoo.
It's funny how your brightest thoughts
Are had while in the bath
These musings land one in the courts (Knobbly) So you did. I've only just noticed.
(pen) Knobbers? Knobbers?? You're dir'y.
If played out before a hearth Broad "a" mode.
I wish I were a lawyer
Who travels place to place
Distributing fee notes
And winning every case
I'm glad I'm not a banker
For bonuses I hate
Those coins weigh down my pockets
And make me very late.
Beware the Jabberwock my son!
His eyes are all aflame
Be bold, and with your vorpal sword
Restore our family name.
This recipe for meatloaf
Needs garlic -- twenty cloves
This means that it can stop a train
And empty it, in droves Hmmm. Maybe someone else could have done it better.
I wish that I could write a verse [pen] good result given the circumstance
In praise of paradigms
But that would clearly be peverse
So just do one that rhymes.
I wish that I were far away
In fabled Samarkand
I'd grab a passing camel
And ride across the sand
I've learned why these are called glowworms
(Though I haven't quite mastered the form)
Though they're nothing like a limerick
Nobody really notices if I add an extra beat or two - hang on, where's me mate?
So why am I a glowworm? come and have a go if you think you're hard enough
Because, by night, you shine
Your arse emits a friendly light
That almost outshines mine
I wish I were a pot-hole (irach) Er, we'll be the judge of that. :-)
To lie in wait for bikes
I lure unwary pedallers [p, R, SM, i] marvellous. And not just because it's apparently in praise of me :o)
Then I leaps out and strikes
Today's the day the Aintree nags
Leap o'er Becher's Brook
And bookies take their money bags
To fill with takings took
I beat the bookies at their game
My stake went on a silly name
And when the first horse passed the post
I was the one who'd won the most so sorry, it ran away with me
I wish the odds were better
'Gainst life's slings and arrows (pen) I hope you behaved yourself.
But with the right protection
The winning margin narrows
I wish I were a policeman
Because I am power mad
My truncheon would be hard and thick
A lot like me and dad
I wish I were a spotted skunk
A weas'lly little stinker
And smell just like my grandpa stunk
'Tho I'm just a little pinker
This break in the proceedings
Could not have been timed better
I'll go and take some readings (mode = weather nut.)
And see if it got wetter awright, Rosie?
I wish I were a cloudburst (pen) Das Wetter ist sehr trocken.
I'd rain all over you
With splishy-sploshy raindrops
As big as drops of dew
The sun today is very hot
But the air is very cold
Sunburn, frostbite, all at once
But where? You shan't be told
I'm working very hard today
At writing deathless prose
I'm trying to clear my desk, you see
Of all that is verbose.
The midnight oil's all been burned
Adding to greenhouse gases
The textbook pages have been turned
By studious lads and lasses.
The time has come for all good men
To join in our just cause
And if we find agreement, then
We'll campaign to change the laws
Good women too, are needed here
They add that feminine touch
As long as they don't get ideas
And wear the trousers much *steams*
I wish I were a referee (pen) Not surprised. Get some water in the boiler - quick.
I rule with rod of steel
Don't hesitate to show the red
If the goalie's not genteel.
The linesman has an easy job
He types <hr> and lo!
A new fresh piece of webpage
Let creative juices flow!
The policeman's lot is happy
As kettling he doth go
He views the world as crappy
He's act'lly right, you know.
The marks are all submitted
The final grades are in
The students are all failing
Their careers are in the bin
If I were Occam's Razor
I'd only have one blade
The epiphytes of reason
Expediently flayed
If I were that much shorter
Then I wouldn't bump my head
But six foot four-and-a-quarter
I can't fit in my bed!
I wish a were a piece of gum
Stuck underneath a desk
I'm bioindestructible
And truly look grotesque
A blob of primal bubble gum
With plastic spider in
Oh dear, am I in trouble, mum?
For ruining your gin? mercy killing
I wish I were a tapeworm
As some have done before
I'd sink my suckers in your gut
And have a proper gnaw
I wish I hadn't started
To paint this flipping bridge
My arms are jolly tired
And all bitten by a midge
I wish I were a cheesecake
Covered in blueberries
Served with Cornish clotted cream
And on the top some cherries.
Or some fruit or other from Waitrose in Didcot which is even posher than Newbury's. What a complete pile of crap.
I used to have ambition
Me too; I now know better
Why bother when there's someone else
Who's more of a go-getter
I'll never give up trying
I'll always do my best
OK, OK, I'm lying
Glad I got that off my chest
I wish I were a penguin
I can't quite fathom why
I'd be waddling in the bitter cold
Under a shelterless sky.
I wish I knew the reason
My nose keeps falling off
Though it really only happens
When I stick it in the trough.
I wish I knew what I should do
But I am now in despair
If only I could find a clue
But I've looked everywhere.
I'm glad I'm not a bidet
It's a rather thankless position
I sluice away the products
Of a person's bottom section
I love my little lobster
Jayne Mansfield is her name
She will not lie or rob, sir
And she's not a crabby dame
I used to count on fingers
But now we all use digits
With bits and bytes I get confused
And nybbles give me fidgets.
While seated at the organ [Rosie] Up went the lobsters, Boiinnng!
I played a Bach cantata (Kim) Those infernal crustaceans.
The coda it was foregone
Like sex in Lysistrata.
The Big Bad Wolf is at the door
I heard his Big Bad howl
I'm curled up on the Big Bad floor
With Big Bad Tessa Jowell. Tess y diawl ( = Tess the devil).
I wish I were a Murdoch Hack
Gath'ring lies and muck
I'd rake it in a heinous stack
And print it. What the f*ck.
I wish I were a grease gun Pe-NE-lopeh, really! Nice one, BTW.
To lube your balls of steel
A dollop just might ease one
But I'd have to check and feel the showerproof trench in lilac... thanks
I wish I were connected
Like the Internet at home
I'd have my own IP address
Like private-eye@gnome.
Hidden textAll right, it's an email address. Bugger off.:-)
I wish I had some glasses
To pour us all a drink
Then we'd start making passes
At penelope we'd wink you know you like it, really ;o)
Once, I winked at a poet
I bet it were Ian MacMillan
I wondered how you'd know it
As he's not exactly thrillin' sorrysorrysorry
I wish I were a drawing pin
Dropped point-up on the floor
I'll lurk there 'til your unshod feet
Learn what a pin is for.
The Purpose of the Noble Pin
[cfm] More good stuff! The pin and the Lysistrata ones are two of my recent favorites.
Is simple to explain:
It pricks, it pierces, burrows in
To produce instant pain
They tried to pin it on me
And I gave a girlish shriek
As my plasma went free
I started feeling weak.
I started Monday morning
With a song apon my lips
By Friday afternoon at 5
'Twas settled on my hips.
My bagpipe playing will improve
Whenever I quit smoking
I put a gasper down each drone (gasper n. cigarette)
The Scots, they think I'm joking.
[i, cfm, SM, R] Very satisfying, that last one - because of use of the word 'gasper', and also because of the cruelty to bagpipes.
It's all done, bar the shouting
And even that's diminished
So, when you're done with pouting
this rhyme, they say, is finished.
I'll raise a glass to one and all
A worthy toast it is
To this quite splendid cannonball
A long draught of Bucks Fizz
My first appears in sun and rain - solve the word puzzle - can we make this work?
The next in ears and nose.
My third in fourth but not in fifth
My fourth in drawers not hose
The time to buy some posher plonk (crossing over from the limerick game here)
Is the time when you have money
Then with winish snobbery
Serve it mixed with honey (I don't like them dry wines)
'Twas on a bright September morn
When I met my true love
But then the teacher caught us
As I began to shove Coat!
I wish I were the author
Of some fine erotic verse
I'd win you -- first with subtle rhymes
Then something more perverse
There's something big and hairy there.
Rebekah Brooks it is
She shares a hairdo with Shaun White
When it rains, it tends to frizz
I wish I had completed
What I set out to do
Alas, I was defeated
By black magic and voodoo
I wish I had a flower pot
To place upon my roof
Amongst the tiles and slates, it's bloom
Would brighten, fade, then...poof!
I wish the zombie at my door
Would kindly bugger off
He visited me once before
And all my brains did scoff
:^)
I have a small confession
'bout a weakness that I have
I have sworn off the repression
But deep down I'm just a chav.
I wish that I was ten feet tall That zombie one was excellent =)
I'd look down on the throng.
Then they would look up at me
And dangle from my thong
I called and left a message
That said please call me back
I guess you didn't hear it
Or you've given me the sack
I wish I were a sack of spuds
Wilja, Queens or Roosters
Producing enough biofuel
To launch two rocket boosters
I wish I was on top of things
I'd be a happenin' dude
My minions toiling down below
Would be completely screwed
I wish I had a bushy beard
I'd stroke it thoughtfully
And in it I'd collect stale food
For when there's naught for tea.
I wish I had a fine moustache
To hide my crooked lip
I wouldn't fake with chimney ash
In case my nose did drip
I wish I had big sideburns on we go...
Like 'Elvis mutton chops'
I'd wag them fiercely in your face
Until you called the cops.
My blue suede shoes are rather tight
My sparkly pants are, too
My hips are arthritic now
But Hound Dog, I love you
Oh, to live with floppy ears
Like HRH the heir
Which makes no sense to most of us
So shall we leave it there?
Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.
Mother's watching, you see.
The scansion is just hard, there, and it seems to have stalled us. May I offer a slight rewrite?

penelope: Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.

cfm: Mother's watching us.

CdM: So take it easy, Mrs Peel

Get it done - no fuss
I need some information
That is hid in antient tomes
It's all about the height of dwarves
And religious views of gnomes.
If I was blessed with hindsight
I'd know my bum was clean
Alas, I'm no contortionist
And so it goes unseen
The trouble with solicitors
Hang on, where do I start?
My phone is ringing off the hook
It rings each time I fart.
I wish I were a carpenter
You'd see that I can saw
I'd take out my nice big tool
And drop you through the floor assuming it's a wooden floor
I wish I were a foolish maid Brains? What are they good for? They only get you into trouble and create more work.
A-milking foolish cows
Flirting with a scurvy knave
And more, as time allows.
I wish I were not at this desk
At this ungodly hour
This corp'rate life is too grotesque
Except for those with power
Brains are just a waste of space
And so are dirty socks
But well-coiffed whiskers on one's face
Can cover up one's pocks
It only takes a second to ... - usa
Say "thank you" now and then
Manners maketh man you know
But banging maketh MEN!
I wish I were a mermaid
My shimmery tail would swish
Enticing foolish sailors
Who yearn women that smell like fish
Calypso on her island
Conceals her true intent
Her penchant for fresh crabmeat
To mask that fishy scent
If I were a door knocker
I'd want a change of job
I'd be shiny, bold as brass
And be a polished knob.
Behold this knob of butter
Behold this cob of corn
The use for these is obvious
Now, let's go make some porn
I wish I were a porn star
Is the title of a book
I've seen the author's photo
It wasn't worth the look
I wish I were a smuggler
I'd deal in contraband
Forget parades and celebrations
My wares are much too grand.
I wish my nose were bulbous
Karl Maldenesque, indeed
I'd snore with improved resonance
My breath it would impede mercy killing...
Have mercy on the graceless
The faceless and the lost
For without eyes they cannot see
And mouthless, cannot floss.
I wish I was a haggis
But fried instead of simmered.
With my buddies neeps and tatties
On pure white plates that glimmered.
Let he who is without sin cast
A blessing on this place
For purity is rare indeed
And we could use some grace
I wish I had pink toe shoes
And a pink tutu as well
I'd prance across the try line
Oh how I wish I was a gel
It only takes a little snip
To right those years of wrong
To redirect each errant ship
And invert that manly dong Coat!
The thickest mist has envelopèd
My normally robust brain
And thus it has developèd
To drizzle, then light rain.
Hidden text[Rosie] What ho, old chum!
I'm glad I'm not Italian [Where's you bin, Rosie?]
I'm not a fan of gnocchi
Focaccia brings me out in hives
Like Berlusconi's cock(y). (Softers, Phil(th)) Avoiding irritation and the consequent hypertensive stress and the casting of heavy objects at the screen. However, this place is addictive.
I wish I were a hedgehog
All cute, but rather prickly
Hidden text[Rosie] thought so.
I'd take care while crossing roads
Or I'd meet my Maker quickly
I wish I were a filament
Or something just as tenuous
This constant need for intro lines
Is getting rather strenuous Oblig.
I wish that I could start anew
And be sixteen again
I wouldn't have a single clue
But sex would be the same
I wish I knew just what to do
In high-class situations
My knowledge of such etiquette
Is scant, and strains relations.
I wish I could convince you
That rats and voles and foxes
Lack pouches like a kangaroo's
So keep their young in boxes  Poor form to post twice in the same verse, but it just seemed right.
I wish my next-door neighbour
Would leave her curtains open
My TV isn't working [CdM] Sometimes you just know what has to be done. We've all been there
So I'm sittin' here just mopin'
I wish the cold would go away
And visit Timbuctu
Cos then, I could just throw away
This useless cure for 'flu
I wish I were the antidote
To all things good and pure
Just read The Sun and take it in
Then don't read any more.
Detaching burrs from dog fur
Is a fine career for all!
It's advertised on craigslist
For it's best to start off small
To find a pleasant country home
One must search far and wide
While if you want a council flat
Let caution be your guide
I wish I were a rock star
Like Freddie M of Queen
I'd give myself a pseudonym
Like "Prince" or "Mr Bean"
I wish I were a comic
Ironic and profane
With fortune astronomic
And a demeanour insane
I wish I were a member
But I can't afford the dues
And also I was blackballed
For having muddy shoes
A friend of mine once told me
She was born on Ganymede
By Jove, she's Galilean
And rides a martian steed.
I wish that I were liquid
I'd then go with the flow
And if I had a quick wit
Be quicksilver on the go
My horse has lost his whinny
And worse than that, its neigh
It's gone mute, poor hinny
That's all there is to say
A cat has got my horse's tongue
And ate the whole thing down
And now her caterwaul sounds hoarse
Which makes the neigh-bores frown.
I wish I were a diction'ry (Chalky, last one) Gracefully terminated at long last.
My life would have such meaning!
I'd never be at a loss for words
They call it verbal preening ... which seems to be stalling the natural flow of this game [Ta Rosie]
I'd hate to be a pinko *ducks*
'Cos all my friends are Tories
And doubtless they would think, "Oh..."
"never mind those dodgy stories" mercy killing
I wish I were a carving knife
I'd slice the Christmas ham
My cuts would all be fancy
the best of them just glam!
I wish it was still Nineteen Ten only because it scans and might have a rhyme
When I was just a tot
My dear Mama was nineteen then
But me, I'd seen the lot.
I wish it were tomorrow
And not just half-past-eight
Because I will be given
A purple, wrought-iron gate
I wish today would never end
Tomorrow I get hung
[Raak] LOL
And well hung I hope you'll be (Raak) Did you mean hanged?.
When from the rope we're swung
I need a way to make this clean
And free from filthy canker
Lest I be charged with lechery
And told to leave Sri Lanka
I wish I were a drawing pin Last one v. good, esp. Chalky
Point-up upon a chair
To prick the pompous arses when ... Ta Rosie :)
I feel their derriere TVM. A gift.
I wish I were a guinea pig [Darren] Did you mean swanged?
Caged up in a lab [CdM] That's the sort of thing Google usually says to me.
Warm and cosy, drugs galore
Doesn't that sound fab?
I wish I had a horse and plough
And maybe one small field
I'd have a place to sow wild oats
Before my fate was sealed
I wish I had a quiet weekend [Chalky] "Sri Lanka" - excellent :-)
Sailing the Aegean sea
I'd sail inside a giant yacht
Just, I, myself, and me.
Some lovely glow-worms recently, goed gedaan
I wish the housework did itself
While I snoozed 'neath the covers
My Roomba, Scooba, REEM, and Nao
Cleaning up during their hovers
I wish I had another arm
I'd hug you even tighter
And when you were relaxed and calm
I'd box your ears, you blighter. Confused messages. Keep 'em on their toes
The answer to this anagram
Is "Awesome tartan thrashing"
I've solved it here's the answer:

Software - I've solved it! Here's the answer question:
CdM - O what's a reet rant mashing?
Footnote 1: @Darren Yes, I did see what you did there
Footnote 2: @Software Apologies for taking that liberty with your line
Footnote 3: "rant" (Scots dialect, stretching usage just a bit) = merry, wild
[CdM] Yeah, as soon as I posted it I realised I'd screwed up the poem. It would have been better to try for it on line 4. Still, onwards and upwards.

The answer to this anagram
O what's a reet rant mashing?...
What that means is anger or
Awesome tartan thrashing
Now there's class.

I wish I had a snooker cue

I'd pot a ball or two ... admirable work on last one, Darren and CdM :-)
For those watching in black and white
I'll pot the pink, then blue.
I wish my head was screwed on right
Alas, it's set askew
So please ignore my curious stance
On quitting the EU
I wish you'd stop your robbing banks
For making themselves rich
And why am I still firing blanks?
My snip still needs a stitch (A merciful seeing off, sorry Chalks)
Thanks pen - was wondering how to 'do the double' and get rid of the darned thing myself ..
I wish my current deadline
Was twenty weeks away
But sadly I am overdue
From the 21st last May
I wish I were just virtual
Instead of flesh and bone
I'd feed off Apple- Macintosh
And leave the cakes alone Funny how the line comes to you after five days or so...
I wish I mashed potatoes
The way my mother did
Some subtle twisting of the wrist
Then mix in puréed squid
I wish that I lived closer
to Kingston-upon-Hull
Right now I live near Worcester
Where life's just dross and dull
Oh how I wish this Valentine
That I were wed, not single
When I am 80 who will care
To share my final Pringle?
... Because, when all the chips are down [Darren} Nice.
You know who you can trust
Not gold, nor crown, nor any thing
But you can rely on lust.
I wish it weren't leap year
Have to work an extra day
To make it worse, it's New Year's Eve,
At least that's months away apologies for the double entry, couldn't pass it up
It takes a leap of faith
To cross the gorge of doubt
Or so the parson saith
To prove one is devout
I wish it weren't so quiet
I really, really do
For if I could hear a whisper
I may just talk to you
I wish to make a statement
That's short and bold and true
....: There will be an abatement
While I am on the loo sorrysorrysorry
While sitting in the smallest room
I think my largest thoughts
And sometimes I might fall asleep
Enthroned on chamberpots
The thing with toilet humour
Is it's easy to pooh-pooh
The top reasons- numbers one and two
You first must use the loo
There wasn't any questioning
Of the first suspect in queue
The second, third, and fourth went by
But now we'll question you
I wish I were in Dixie
In past subjunctive mood
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