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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 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
[R, CdM, K, cfm] Splendid.
The windows all need cleaning
The kitchen floor's a mess
But such work's so demeaning
Go get your Mom, I guess
I love procrastinastion
I'll do some more tomorrow
But I'm gripped by vacillation
Have you time to borrow?
If I were an alarm clock
No doubt I'd be resented
But only by vague arty types
With lives unregimented
.. had to be done
If I were a carpenter
I'd bang and thump and hammer
And sometimes acshly hit the nail
In the accepted manner
Pheer mai awsom3 h4cking skillz
Defy a wall; it crumbles
I'm not sure where this going
NOBODY expects the—
Oh, bugger.
I wish I were an organ pipe
A 32 foot beast
I'd tremble with the voice of God
My volume much increased
I wish I were a snowman
That's newly sprung in Spring
A pointy root veg for a nose
Another for my thing I believe it is customary to issue a request for an outer garment at this juncture.
I wish I were a mousetrap
With Edam I'd be primed [CdM]
Hidden textExactly the four words I decided not to post, as there's too much Philth in this world already ;-)
A little mouse of Amsterdam
His hunger so mistimed.
Hidden text(Phil) No there isn't.

I'm glad I'm not a milkman
Out in't snow and dark Boreal usage scansion imperative claim.
Slipping on an icy path
Sod that for a lark
[K, R, S, C] Excellent!
Another job I wouldn't do
Is much involved with lobsters
I'd rather take a blood oath
And join a gang of mobsters.
The worst job that I ever had [Rosie?]
Turned both my elbows green
Collecting cat poo was my lot (Kim) I seem to have jumped the gun.
While dressed up like a queen
While working for Jayne Mansfield
I lost a lot of weight
Yanking all those lobsters oblig.
Out of her 'tailgate' What Rosie said
*chuckles*
I wish I were a golf club
Gripped firmly with a glove
I'd swing and swing the wrong way
And hit heads from above.
I'm glad I'm not an Easter Egg
With spring-like obsolescence
Consumed with avaricious haste
I reek now of its essence. ie I'm covered in chocolate
I took a pee while I was doing that. Sorry.
An 'oenelope' is someone who runs off with the wine.
Us isobars are all quite close
We're cooking up a storm
We'll squeeze the air along at speed (Chalky) We pedants are horrified, m'dear.
But will not keep you warm.
I will tell a knock-knock joke
That's sure to split your sides
Knock! Knock! Who's there? Archie
Andrews. And laughter, it subsides.
Three blokes pop in their public house
(A rabbi, a priest and a Scot) That is how the joke goes, isn't it? No?
A fart by one makes t'next one sneeze
And the third shouts out "twot" moving swiftly on ...
Some people really try too hard .. last one was crap in every respect.
Ahem
- Some people really try too hard
- To show they are a wit
They dream up lines of poetry
That somehow don't quite fit
I think the last one needed to conclude in frenzied anticlimax, viz;

Three blokes pop in their public house
(A rabbi, priest and Scot)
Something funny happens then
But I've forgotten what.


[SM] Bravo!
A young man's fancy turns to love
Every seventh minute [Simons Mith] splendidly deft!
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