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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 eat my peas with relish
It's fluorescent yellow
The egg-spoon that I eat them with
I stole from some poor fellow.
I like my peas reet mushy
For I'm a northern lad
To those wha claim it's grim oop here (apologies for clunky accent)
Ah'll tell 'ee, tha's bin had!
They're holding pea stalks as we speak
We're hoping there won't be a leek
Of a limerick style
Because in a while
Someone will give us a tweak
I wish I had the muscle
To lift this pile of bricks
But sadly I'm a wimpy man
With arms and legs like sticks
I wish I were a spaceman
I'd float around all day
Until my tank of oxygen
Had leaked my air away.
I wish I were eighteen again
But knew all I now know
I'd find it hard to fall in love
Then marriage wouldn't flow
I wish I were a Jabberwock
With eyes aflame and such
I'd wish you all a frabjous day
And other double Dutch
If I could find a beaten sword
Then I would be a winner;
A plowshare would be my reward
And I could sow me dinner
I wish I were in marketing
In charge of famous brands
I'd trash their corporate image
With my small, dirty hands!
I wish I were a maestro
A crappy Rover car
Though I might get called a tin can
I wouldn't take you far mercy killing.
I wish my legs were stronger
Than those of Usain Bolt
His speed makes him much wonga
I'm poor - my short legs' fault.
Now, Scottish independence *stands back*
Wis thocht up doon the pub
W'all agreed tha' snooty Dave
Should nae be in oor club.
I wish I spoke Italian
I'd chat up all the birds
I'd be a right rapscallion
'Cos ladies don't like nerds
I wish I spoke Swahili
It sounds so unlike Dutch
Yet Swahili's word for "penguin"
Don't change very much
My shoes are nice and shiny
Just like my nose, alas
My hair sticks up quite spiny Curious that shoe polish shines shoes, but dulls noses.
And the sun shines out my as...
...pidistra in the parlour
Victoriana chic
'Tis worthy of La Scala
I know whereof I speak
Software - I wish I'd been I K Brunel
Beneath my stovepipe hat
'Midst belching chimneys I would dwell
But in a mansion, not a flat.
I wish I were an oak tree
Upon the village green
Bolts of lightning do their worst
To this bucolic scene.
I wish I played the mandolin
Just like Captain Corelli
And kept a tame-ish pangolin
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