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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 just a little caviar
You know, that fishy goo.
I wish I'd been a buccaneer
Sacking galleons and cities
An enterprising privateer
Saying "Ha-harrr" and whistling ditties.
The Budget sets our spending
Unless we're rolling in it innit?
It is sure to increase lending
By 14p a minute.
If I were riding on a train
That called at Clapham Junction
Onto the tracks below I'd drain
My bowels, without compunction. pretty much oblig.
[Knobbly] I suspect that you, me and Rosie were probably ad idem on that one. Not sure about pen.
I let out such a holler
That it woke th'Antipodes
I'd lost my final dollar
To arbitration fees
I wish I had a hobby horse
That I could ride around on;
One I had purchased second-hand
But it was bro-kon<
Hidden textYes, I know, a ridiculous stretch there
The Ancient Mariner went by
Waitrose on his way
To pick up twenty artichokes
And twenty bales of hay.
My ancient Marina still goes
Like an elephant in its last throes
If those aren't the first two lines of a limerick I'm a baobab tree
Oops.
Which is what happened and where it happened way back in 1973.
Rosie, you don't half set some tricky scansion.
(Bismarck) Well, it's clerihew, isn't it?
I wish I were a mariner
So I could stop a wedding guest
Hidden textIf that last one was simultaneously a limerick, a clerihew and a bad quatrain, we have reached unforeseen heights. Or depths.
From smashing up the porringer
And spilling gravy down his chest
I wish I were a gavy boat
*gravy
And not a gravy train
Then scruffy kids would sniff me
And not use me for gain.
I think I see the reason
Why I'm such a slob
Cos whate'er be the season
I never get a job
I'd love to be a Vandal
Smashing things for fun
Hidden text(Raak) Did you mean "I'd love to have been a Vandal"?
Hidden text[Rosie] Good Scansion gives +1 to Poetic License.
But I was born Attila
Just the day job for a Hun.
The movies that I have not seen
I also have not heard
And subtitles have never been
The last and final word
V. nice...!
I wish I were a photon
Going at the speed of light
My local time would never change
But relatives' just might
This rhyming lark is really great!
It's better than a parrot
Which is dead in any case
From overdose of claret Thanks for the parrot rhyme challenge, Simons, I was determined not to carrot it.
O for the wings of a dove!
To escape the malevolent hawk
So somebody give me a shove
And look away while I squawk.
pen, I can think of ferret, garret, and merit right off . . .
I should have picked the mynah bird :-)
But watch out for that beak!
Its repertoire is quite absurd [KS] I'll give you ferret/merit and parrot/garret (almost) but there are no other relations by rhymeration at all in that bundle o' words.
That's why it is not cheep!
Yes, "beak" and "cheep" are perfect rhymes. In a sense. Which I have just made up.
(pen, penult) I know you don't live in a garrett but have you driven any of these monsters?
My boyfriend drives a Monster Truck
A redneck through and through Perhaps generalising unfairly, but this is poetry, not real-life
He votes for Trump and says "Yee-haw!" ditto
And is fluent in Urdu.
A Monday morning task for me
Is started in the afternoon;
This may seem paradoxical
But Mondays come around too soon. Mercy
I think somebody's pulling the wool
Now then, Mr Software, how many feet does a glow-worm have? de-Dum de-Dum de-Dum Dum, remember? I wish I were a glow worm. So...

I think somebody's pulling

The wool over our eyes
'Cos we know what they're up to
Despite the lizards' lies.
(UN-altered REPRODUCTION and DISSEMINATION of this IMPORTANT Information is ENCOURAGED, ESPECIALLY to COMPUTER BULLETIN BOARDS.)
Un-altered reproduction
No mutations, please
Hidden textEven in Welsh
Important information
Online, not on trees.
I wish I were a bouncer
Like my friend Zebedee
I'd round them up for bedtime
"Brush teeth and have a pee!"
In Glasgow there was a cow
Ee-aye-ee-aye-oh
Sadly, it isn't there now
so I just won't go
I wish I could do scansion
Just like a real poet
But do you know what?
I tend to write whatever rhymes and just add a line below it.
I wish I were a lemur
With a stripy, fluffy tail
I'd hang around the jungle
And drink a pint of ale.
I've never been to Glasgow
Nor said "Och aye the noo"
Because I live in Edinburgh
And have a broader view.
I wish I were a Scotsman
I'd eat haggis every day
And many a deoch an doruis
Would send me on my way.
I wish I were a Geordie
Just like Ant or Dec
I'd pretend to be all cheery
While miserable as feck. soz
I wish I weren't a Yankee       I prefer the demonym "Yinzer" these days
Well, mate, try being Welsh (drqu) According to Wikipaedia that refers to Pittsburgh only, whereas Yankee.....
Or festering or manky This one seems to have taken a terrible turn. Sorry about that
Just like Sir Toby Belsh. tch...
(Kim) What are my initials doing sitting there after your posting? Would you like my phone number?
(Tch) No, but you can have mine if you can suggest a word that rhymes with "Welsh".
Now Lloyd George knew my father
Father knew him back See what I did there?
But Lloyd George would rather
Scratch at his itchy sack! (sorry not sorry...)
Losing pluck on a slack afternoon I want to go home to tea and the sofa
The arms of Morpheus beckoned (Kim) Um, er .... Not one of my better ones. (Giertud) My mother met LLoyd George.
The metre's slightly wonky
I was tireder than I'd reckoned
I wish I were a fairy But knowing my luck I'd be like Mavis in Willo the Wisp.
With Edna as my foe [pen] What a great programme.
[Superman] L G actually did know my great-grandfather.
I'd dance upon the flowers
Then stamp upon your toe
I wish I were an ombudsman
At bureaucrats I'd glower
And rap their knuckles till they bled
Because I'd have that power!
I wish I had a sailboat
To sail the Seven Seas
But hang on, I get seasick
In the slightest breeze.
I wish I lived in Yorkshire.
On Ilkley Moor I'd roam
Neglecting hypothermia
Baht 'at I'd ne'er come home.
I wish I were a busker
Showing all my artistic skill
By plucking my guitar strings
On top of Blueberry Hill.
I wish I were a busker's cap
Filling up with money
I'd please my strumming partner
'Cos 'e needs the ackers, du'n 'e?
I wish I had three wishes
And three wishes for each wish
And so on ad infinitum
Very genie-ish.
I wish that I'd been Guy Fawkes
With gunpowder, treason and plot
'Cos I would have succeeded
'Cos it turned out, he did not.
The natives all get restive
About this time of year
They're unready to be festive
And won't even drink beer.
I do enjoy an autumn gale The Xmas-tree-in-a-pot fell over this morning
That blows the leaves clear off the trees Here it carried the fumes from the burning waffle factory over the South of the city.
The birds don't need a winter home.
So let them freeze their knees
I wish I felt like working
But sadly I do not
I've spent the whole day shirking
And haven't done a jot.
I wish I were a Christmas elf
A slave in Santa's grotto
Keeping dark thoughts to myself
And working 'cos I've got to.
I wish I had a sinecure
I'd like to do f*ck all
I'd be just like a Tory
As in the House I sprawl.
A good cure for stomach ache
Is hair of t'dog that bit you
I don't mean too much Christmas cake
Or else your clothes won't fit you.
My New Year's resolution
Is not the usual thing
It's to find a solution
To all this Brexiting. [ Oblig., and with apologies for posting out of turn.]
I'm going to be a hermit
'Cos I'm an ugly sod
Unless it needs a permit Phew - only took me threre days to trhink of something that wasn't 'Kermit'
To sit upon yer tod.
I wish I were a traffic light
In Balham's High Road, yon
I'd stop all the birds in flight
But would then be sh*t upon
I'm not a first line hogger
The second's fine for me
Then again I am a blogger
Of abysmal poetry
I wrote some poems lately
I think they're rather good
The metre goes sedately
Like semolina pud.
I wish I were a trochee
Such a wild ambition!
But my metre would be far too short
And never reach fruition
The night was dark and stormy
Inside, the fire was bright
A glass of fine Old Tawny
Helped set the world aright.
The day was fresh and breezy
The trees danced in the wind
Spring's just around the corner
Let gloves and hats be binned.
The temperature dropped slowly
Defying hopes of Spring
So back out with the woollies
Not my idea of bling.
I treat my fleas with honey
I loan them to my wife
It costs her lots of money
She says "Oi Vey! My Life!"
When supping with The Devil
I use my longest spoon
The one that is quite runcible
To offer him a prune.
When taking tea with Mater
I always add some milk.
So let me call the waiter
Or someone of that ilk.
I need a new T.V. set
To watch new TV shows
My eyes will need a reset
I stared so much they froze
I want to be with people
Intent on revolution
Not lie down with the sheeple
And hope for absolution.
I wish to make a statement
Of my own theorEE
That laws on noise abatement
Should be sung pp.
My piano is a monster
That lives beneath my bed
My mother says it haunts her
It plays inside her head.
I cannot wear this headscarf
As I have misplaced my head
And so, because I'm headless
I think I must be dead.
I wish I were a drawing pin
Holding up a drawing
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