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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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And if it nears, just raise your boot
But not if it's a loafer.
God particles are hard to find
Without acceleration
But scientists of true heart and mind
Might use exaggeration
I wish I was a Boson-Higgs
E'er since I were a lass
I've always wanted much more weight
To look like like Mama Cass.
[J, P. S, R] I laughed out loud.
I'm glad I'm not a molecule
With too much dipole moment
I'm methane, constituent of farts Glad I'm not the only chemical anorak here.
That's the odorous component
I wish I were a microwave
From space at 3°
I'd get inside your woolly socks
And mutilate your knees
The gamma Higgs neutrinalo
Is mighty hard to find
It makes quick rounds, like a gigalo
And leaves no trace behind
I wish that I spoke physicist
I'm sure it's quite a lark
With acronyms and symbols
Based on the lighter quark*


*Forced ("Flavourful mesons are mesons made of pair of quark and antiquarks of different flavours. The rules are simpler in this case: the main symbol depends on the heavier quark, the superscript depends on the charge, and the subscript (if any) depends on the lighter quark.")
I've got bells that jingle jangle
On my one-horse sleigh Are we in the run-up to Christmas already?
They really get upon my tits
And think of the poor dray.
I wish that I was sozzled
Completely out my tree
Because I cannot bear to face
Enforced sobriety
I wish I weren't so flatulent
I'd have a lot more friends
'Cos my windy smelly ways
Some clearly are not even worth a mercy killing
I wish I could run really fast
Just like that West Indian sprinter
I'd always be first, not last
But my wooden leg would splinter
I wish I could swim really well
Through Heinz Tomato Soup
An Olympian vision of Hell
Backstrokes through crimson goop
Well, now the games are over
And life resumes its course
Get ready for the football
And prepare for a divorce.
I'm sleeping less than well [S,R,K,R] Very nice! Reminds me to be thankful Mrs Tuj and I share a sports addiction
I toss and turn all night Shut up at the back.
I need no waking bell
But then I'm less than bright
If I screw up my eyes and dangling preposition alert
Put on some glasses
This looks like a haiku. Sorry, but I just can't get the previous lines to scan as anything.
Created by asses.
[cfm] Superb last-minute addition. Have a crisp! In fact, have several.

The road outside is melting

To a treacly noisy goo
And now the rain is pelting [cdm] Well saved!
Right, God, I'm going to sue
The weather's not improving
It's staying much the same
There's not much else to talk about
Let's get back to the game.
I wish I were the Lord your God
And not have horns or tail
I'd give you all a healthy prod
To make you weep and wail.
I'm more inclined to devilment
Than angels on my shoulder
Hell's perfect for a barbeque
You'll be there when you're older.
I wonder if the ketchup's hot?
And if the chili's cold [SciR] Excellent.
And are the dogs room temperature
And free of worms and mould.
I wish I were a pearly king
And you a pearly queen
The world would be our oyster then
We're dressed in Crimplene
I wish I had a ticket
To Cleopatra's wedding
The guest list is to die for
The bride, though, is for bedding.
I wish someone had told me
To add some baking powder
My tater-cakes are flat and wet
I'm left with onion chowder sorry sorry sorry - but it's culinarily feasible.
I dropped my iPhone in the pond
It's crossed to cell phone Valhalla beyond
This sounds like a limerick
But we really should stick
To the Haiku of which we're all fond
let's restart:
I dropped my iPhone in the pond
To test the maker's claim
I urge you to do likewise
But I won't take any blame
I wish I had asked Siri
How to marinate pig's feet
To feed to my dear mother
And get her back in heat
The last three lines of this poem
(No, make that the last two)
Extoll both xylem and phloem
(In fact, one line will do)
Apologies for the double post
That last rhyme can't be beaten Oh... *swoons with being so impressed at the last one*
For such exotic flair
It's Heston to my Mrs Beeton
Such verbal skill is rare.
I wish I were a lady
Feminine and coy
Hidden texthaving an identity crisis, Phil?
Cuz lovely, lacy underthings
I can't wear as a boy. Hmm...
Be bold, tear up convention!
Ride roughshod thru' the rules
just throw caution to the wind
And bomb all public schools.
I wish I could be sexy
Without cosmetic ops
The fakes are never quite as good
Beneath those see-through tops
I wear my teddy with aplomb
Other fruits just will not do.
Not greengage, damson, mume or plum
Oh! Too many plums tha' noo!
i wish my apricots were prunes
All wrinkly, black and blue
They get things moving, so they say
Excuse me, where's the loo?
I Wish it weren't so windy
Around my nether parts
A kilt's a rather draughty thing
And helps disperse my farts. oblig.
The Feast of St. Narcissus [Rosie] I set 'em up...
Is a very sombre time
Staring into mirrors
Believing you're divine
My god, but I am awesome
In every single way
But most of all, I'm humble
Whatever people say.
I went to see the doctor
About my indigestion
He said I really oughter
Ask the cook that question.
I went to see the dentist
My gums were red and sore
So he extracted all my teeth
It cost a grand and more.
According to my therapist
I have to face my fears
To banish all my demons
I must kill Wackford Squeers.
I went for acupuncture
Got stung for fifty pounds
The puncturist was quite a prick
And stabbed me out of bounds
I wish my back was better
At lifting kegs of beer
My whistle would be wetter
We'd all have more to cheer. A sad tale
I wish I were an urban fox
Tattered, torn and haggard
Running free through dales and fells
Is not my scene you've gathered
I wish I were redundant
(At least from my employment) We need you. :-)
And with my mighty severance pay We hope
Whole seconds of enjoyment
I so wish it weren't Christmas
Well, it ain't. Not yet.
Ignore it; it'll go away
And you'll stay out of debt
I wish that I were wealthy
I'd chuck the job and go
And shag the arse off Polly Toynbee
Because I love her so
I've just forked out for winter tyres
For soon I will be going
To places where the snow is deep
And the Glühwein will be flowing :o)
New week, new rhyme - or so they say
Whoever they may be
Calliope and all the rest
Are good at poetree
I wish it weren't so frosty
Hidden textI don't really, I love it
My nose has fallen off
And as for other organs
I'm trying not to cough
I wonder if the Mayans
Had ever really thought
About those 'Best Before' dates
And bollocks nonsense of that sort.
The Mayans have predicted tempting fate
The world's about to end
And on the twentysecond
We'll all just spend, spend, spend. Well, why not?
It must be time for beer by now
Or mulled wine at the least
I've waited nearly half an hour
I am a thirsty beast.
Hurrah! The hols are almost here
And I've skived off already (I wish)
I've finished working for the year
And I'm reading Ferlinghetti
I wish I had spent Christmas Day
Working overtime for treble pay
Then with the money I'd defray
(Oops, I mistook this for a limerick.)
The cost of booze in Whitley Bay.
I have a wish for the coming year
It's really rather silly
That I should give up drinking beer
I'd rather lose my willy
I wish I were a Hobbit
With huge and hairy feet
Or p'raps Lorena Bobbit I've considered not playing that line, but I don't think that I should
With a penchant for sliced meat - Let's move swiftly on, while I cross my legs gingerly
I wish I were a cat's eye
I watch upon the road
For the erring motorist
Lest he by Death be mowed.
I wish I were a carrier bag
A proper one, not plastic
I'd bring home the bacon
Now isn't that fantastic?
I wish that Juliette Binoche
Was not mentioned in this ditty
Perhaps a nice recette brioche
Would make this verse more pretty?
The human epiglottis
(Like other epiglotts)
Tucked away behind the scene
To tie your voice in knots
I wish I were a haggis
That runs around the glen
I'd wait till Easter Monday
I'd be safe by then
I'd love to be a rocket
Leaving trails of sparks
Inside my lover's pocket
Lest the spouse do find the marks
I'd love to start a glow-worm
With these brand new jump leads
I'd write of things electric
And whate'er the rhyme scheme needs.
I wish I were a pussycat
With whiskers I would tickle
And flit around from home to home
My love being always fickle.
If I hadn't sent that letter
I would now be Mayor of Chard
If you want to do better
Don't let 'em mark your card
I wish my poems rhymed
Blank verse is so 'de trop*
And lyrics that I've mimed
Don't always scan I know
I wish I were a Brummie
Don't laugh. I really do.
My vowels aren't posh or plummy
But I'd do Shakespeare better'n you
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