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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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Are the same as Summmer's and Fall's
The Susies and Jennies and Nancies
Will just kick him in the balls ... coat! ..
At weekends I like lazing
With tea and chocolate biccs
Just sitting in my armchair
In a bra and lacy knicks Least said, soonest mended
... mended. [Made me chuckle, mind]
Chalky - I'd love to take a holiday
To Margate I shall go
With thermal vest and woolly socks
And bucketloads of dough ... sorry - greedy greedy me taking another line
Returning to the office,
He found his desk had gone
"The second time this week!" he thought
"Just what is going on?"
He went to see the Bureau Chief
Demanding explanation
Insisting that he catch the thief
Or tend his resignation.
The Bureau Chief was unimpressed
And quickly sent him packing
The office cleaner then confessed
She'd sent the desk for stacking
The cleaner hadn't realised
That desks were custom-built
Stacking, it could be surmised
Produced an ominous tilt
The Chief sought out this listing stack
And made a bold decision
Even though he knew his staff
Would meet it with derision
"We'll make a matching stack of chairs
Just there, beside the door
And when the workforce grows in size
They'll sit upon the floor."
*is almost afraid to add to the 6 stanzas above which appear to have auto[Raak]-completed with stark yet exquisite simplicity*
And as no-one else has waded in - shall we leave it as it is?
They'll all join hands and sing a song
Of how, in days gone by,
The desks were stacked, quite out of reach
And we'll all wonder why....
But suddenly the bottom desk
Slipped right out of line
The bureau chief was heard to shout,
"Stand back - that one is mine!"
And then, with a tremendous crash
(Preceded by a rumbling)
The pile of office fur-nit-ure
On his head came a-tumbling. - oops
The moral of our sorry tale
Will soon become quite clear
For stacking wobbly desks is fraught
With risk to one's career.
Thank God! The chief was only bruised
And bounced back with panache
He said "I'll sack the silly fool"
And sneered 'neath his moustache.
So what would be the cleaner's fate?
Would she just lose her rag?
No, this char is far too cool
And sneaks out for a fag.
But when she steps outside the door
The nasty boss is waiting
"How dare you stack those desks", he booms
With tone harsh and berating
The tangled heap of fallen desks
Lies just inside the door
The cleaner is defiant
She won't take it any more
"You can stick your desks," the cleaner cries
"Somewhere the sun don't shine"
"Like in the basement storage room"
"Where I must work from mine!" echoes of 'Office Space' here. I expect the next verse will be about TPS reports. Mmm-yeh.
The moral of our sorry tale
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