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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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Until this rhyme gets old More than a week without a last line, folks. Time for it to go.
It'll all be held in secret
Grey suits in smoke-filled rooms
The guns are on the table
While they're eating magic 'shrooms Mercy killing, innit.
I wish I were an actor
A star of the West End
I'd call myself 'Evadne'
Who's paid for 'Let's pretend'.
What is it about recent third lines that caused a promising start to peter out?
My recipe for Christmas cake
Is mostly stout and gin
The Christmas pudding that I'll make
'll have none of the above in. hic!
Some doggerel for Friday
Is what we chiefly need
To help forget the current mess
Let good times be decreed! .
A frog is in my pocket
And out it wants to leap
I'm tempted just to lock it
Up tightly in The Keep
Neat
What I really want for Christmas
Would tell you quite a lot
About the piss-poor State of Things
That pertain in Camelot!
I wish I'd reached enlightenment
Before I bought that drink
Such clarity of thought has gone
That Nirvana's on the blink.
I wish I'd bought some fishing line
Because now I cannot cast
To catch these drones that spy on me
(I wish I hadn't asked.)
If I'd been born a reindeer
I'd fear all polar bears and covalent ones
But since I am a penguin
I know them bears ain't there
Dawn came up like thunder
Noon brought raging sun
The sky was rent asunder
By an angry Kim Jong Un.
I wish that I liked Christmas
But I'm a grouchy sod
Who waits til it's all over
Proclaiming "Oh, thank God"
I wish than I liked whisky *hypothetically obvs*
'Cos I've got twenty litres
I'm told it makes one frisky
But I like margaritas
I have no favourite cocktail
I'll drink just anything
Pass the paraffin, say I
To me it tastes like gin
Now Hogmanay is ending
The Haggis will get stale
So Burns' Night was invented
To use up cakes and ale
I wish I were a porcupine
Tho' I'd still be just as spiky
Cos unable to recline supine
Would lose you sleep, by crikey! You do it next time then!
The boy stood on the burning deck time for an old traditional
There was panic all around
The hairs were signed around his neck this one might run for a few verses
But still he stood his ground.
He shouted to the Captain,
My smartphone's up the spout
But the Captain didn't give a toss
He'd already gotten out.
I don't need much for dinner
A loaf of bread will do
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!
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