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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'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
As seen on the telly
The poetry of Robbie Burns
Was newly sprung in June
It shone and stank a bit, in turns
Just like the changing moon.
The plays of William Shakespeare
Go on for far too long
But for luvvies in the green room
More time to play ping-pong!
If I could play the tenor sax
The girls would coo and swoon
But I am just a drummer
And so they boo and moon!
If I were in a pantomime
I'd be a panto horse
The head and front legs would be fine
The rear's more fun, of course.
If I were not upon the stage Was it just our local panto that had a big song and dance about this?
A prompter I would be
But only for a living wage
I'll not shout lines for free!
If I lived in the desert
I'd change my name to 'Sandy'
My visage may seem weathered
But I make the camels randy!
To welcome in the Noo Year
I have not said a word
I've been in here for 5 days now
And nothing has occurred...
If I were just a dicky-bird (Phil) Fie to your orthography, sir!
You wouldn't get a peep
I'd tuck my head beneath my wing
And feign to be asleep
I glide above on silent wings
And spy my prey below
Juicy little worms and things
But I'd prefer merlot
So did you keep the cellar locked?
The Thing's escaped again!
The residents are very shocked
They're all saying you're insane.
My clothes are mostly second-hand
But not my knickers and bra
I crocheted them myself from string
D'you think I've gone too far?
I wish I were a ball-cock
A regulating system
Preventing too much water
Do I have to? I thought I had made it easy. An imperfect rhyme, I know, but close enough...
From gettng in your cistern.
The best thing about choc'late
Apart from everything else
Is that it's made of chocolate
And melts at 40 Cels. Bit of a hard rhyme there. Welsh? Bells? Pulse?
The best that we can hope for
This Thursday afternoon
Is that by Thursday fortnight
We again escape our doom.
I wish I were a referee
To lay down right and wrong
To be abused from every side
But at Wembley get a gong
I wish for springtime sooner
Begone, frigiditee! No,not you, m'dear.
The days are getting longer
There'll be honey soon for tea.
I eat my peas with honey
It makes them taste quite odd
I like it hot and runny
When I spread it on my bod.
I wish I'd bought an iPad
When iPad's were the rage
But now they're quite old-fashioned
And only seem to age!
I wish I'd bought a bullet train
To speed me to and fro
Through the land of rising sun
Express to Tokyo
It is quite grand to contemplate
And think of what might be
Had I'd been born a royal
And used the royal 'we'.
I often use the O.E.D.
To check a definition
But the words I seek are never there
To my consternomition.
The Shorter Oxford Dictionary
Designed for use by dwarves
They play short games of Pictionary
Whilst hiding in their borves
Hidden textThanks for 'dwarves', Software :)
I wish I were a wharfman
For loading in stiletto heels
Clearly off her rocker ... mercy killing - now play nicely please
I've got some nitroglycerine
It makes a loud ka-boom
I keep it in my pantry
And await the Day of Doom
Ensure your cake will always rise
Use lots of baking powder
For taste it may not win the prize
But your farting will be louder Coat!
For best results a pizza stone
Should be heated well
And lightly sprayed with acetone
Before you run like hell
The oven-cleaning fairies
Appear to be on strike
The grease and crud that's there is
Something to dislike
I wish I were an apple core
My pips quite tight within
Growing ripe in Appledore
Before going in the bin
I wish I were a hacker
I'd clear away the wall
And chuck the lot into the skip
Let another take the ball - mercy killing
A mercy killer I would be
So if you're ill, watch out
I'd creep up with my pillow
And cure you of the gout
I wish I were a bookmark
Tucked in a paperback
I'd keep your place like a pro
If memory you lack. Bit awk. Play on chaps.
I wish that it was raining Not, obvs.
There's nowt like getting soaked
But it'll make the grass grow too
And test my mow'r (four-stroked).
It's pen's fault that it's pouring
She did a rain dance in her clogs
But sunshine gets so boring
And she's lovely rainproof togs.
[K, S, me and T] Lovely.
I tweet at lots of TV chefs *I have just had a tweet convo with Valentine Warner. Swoon.*
And they tweet back to me!!!!
They say "At last a gourmet"
let's have a cup of tea
I wish I were a s'lebrity
My face in every rag
Whoring my integrity
It's for money - that's my bag
I wish to see the manager
These shoes are far too tight
He said "Now look 'ere, Bigfoot"
"The cust'mers never right!"
I wish I had my money back
I've been taken for a ride
I've landed up at Fenny Compton
And a part of me just died
I wish I had a picture hook
Upon my picture rail
I'd hang a picture of my mum
... Ah, hell, I'll use a nail
This painted pair of portrait eyes
Watch you around the room
And crinkle up with mirth when you
Go tripping in the gloom Mersea. Next!
I'm glad I'm not a guinea-pig
Testing things bizarre
I don't much want a thingummyjig
Stuck up my chocolate star
Sorry, sorry, sorry!
I'm glad I'm not a plagiarist ...
Of someone else's verses
My own sweat, blood, toil, tears, and grist
Eliminates such curses
I'm glad I'm not a plagiarist ...
My work is all my own
It is not copying, but "homage"
The best stuff but on loan
I wish I were a lady
Then get out those hormone pills
Your new name could be Sadie
And you too could wear frills
I wish I were a gentleman
I'd tip my hat to ladies
I'd wink at all the suffragettes
Who'd curse me back to Hades
I wish I were transgender covering all bases
And could sit down to pee
But that takes balls and mine have gone
Irrevocabably
I've covered all the bases
Potash, lime, ammonia
My scientific nature
Has made my kidneys stonier
It's not the grotty weather
That makes me think of home
For I'm from sunny Timbuktu
And live in a glass dome!
I wish I had a hammer
And nails and four-by-two
A glue-pot, mitre box, and saw
I'd make a box for you
Now get inside this coffin
And I'll nail down the lid
And once you're six feet under
You'll remember what you did!
If I'd been landed gentry
You'd have to bow and scrape
And offer up your daughters
For legally sanctioned and I really don't feel like completing that line.
I deliberately didn't open that door. Moving on...
I've often wondered if it's true
That drinking caustic soda Once a chemist, . . . .
Quite odd consequences has
On one's body odour
I wish I were a postman
Misdirecting all your mail
Bending all your photographs
When letter boxes fail
I wish I were in orbit
Around the planet Saturn
I'd rearrange its many moons
PS Apols for the distasteful "landed gentry" 3rd line on 26/11. I thought someone would come up with a witty dodge of the obvious rhyme, but now it transpires that I can't think of one either!
Into a pleasing pattern. Will that do?
It will indeed, pen, but this new gravity thing everybody's on about will destroy your artwork in an astronomically short time, i.e. less than ten million years.
Hidden textIt is I, Rosie.
I wish I weren't so sleepy
So flatulent, so dull
I think it's down to Brussels sprouts
And long post-Christmas lull
I wish my resolution
Was not so hard to keep
An easier solution
Just give this year a Leap
I'm glad I'm not a dustbin (Chalky) V neat.
Filled with people's trash
The detritus of daily life
Is hard to swop for cash
I'm glad I'm not a hairbrush
Nor, indeed, a comb
'Cos half a ton of dandruff
Calls your head a home eeeuuuuwwww.
Oh take me to the Mardi Gras!
And watch me dance all night
I'll go without my ma and pa
I'd give 'em such a fright.
I used some CSS code
To execute a coup
But my HTMLability
Has put me in the soup
I used to be a sous-chef
That toiled in sweat and steam
Until I poisoned several guests
With scombroid-riddled bream
I wish I were a battery
Imagine all my uses! [Phil] Phwoar, that's a line
Like powering vibrators coat!
That stimulate the juices hat!
So as your paint is drying
You might just make a movie
With music by George Ezra
Appropriately groovy.
I wish I'd been a Beatle
Back in '64
Starring in A Hard Day's Night
As one of the Fab Four
I wish I were a Beetle
With engine at the back
Air cooled engine phut, phut, phut
A hazard on the racetrack.
I wish I were a beetle
A-rolling turds and dung
But rarely are my praises
In church or chapel sung.
I wish I were a pitchfork
With prongs that prod and probe
And perforate and penetrate
Your wellies and your robe I wish I hadn't had to do that
I once slipped on some bladderwrack
While skipping 'cross the rocks
I guess that that will teach me not
To go out crabbing without my socks
I'm glad I'm not a toothypeg
A-lurking in your gob
With a filling having mercury
And a radioactive throb.
I'm pleased I'm not the only one Maybe I am... is anyone else playing?
That roams these ghostly halls
'Cause if I were my lonely song
Would just bounce of the walls.
If I'd been born as Donald Trump
With bucket-loads of cash
I'd get my hair cut properly
So no-one thinks I'm trash
A cuddly little puppy
Is the master of disguise
He first enslaves the populace
With his cute puppy eyes

(to be continued)
His teeny tiny turdies
He drops so dainti-lee
'Till global domination
As he lifts his leg to pee
So - micro pig or microwave?
For sure, the bacon's tiny
But this cuisine's top mystery
Is why the chef's so whiny
I wish I were a spatula
Scraping out your bowl
Trying not to be too flatula
(it's a stretch, sorry)
And Not to be too foul.
I don't want a referendum
'cause I have to make a choice
Should we stay or should we go?
But don't vote for the loudest voice mercy killing
I've mixed up all my tea-bags!
Is this Sencha or Char Sue?
I'll have to take pot luck, it seems hur hur
With my next warming brue
My aerosol is full of foam!
So I took it to a party
I set it off, it was such fun!
Until the host got arsey
The back door to my wardrobe
Leads to somewhere pleasant
But none but me shall know just what
'S my secret way to the Crescent. Was that a hint that the time draws near?
I'm glad I'm not a snooker ball
A-cannon'd 'cross the baize
In a crumbling, shabby snooker hall
Long past the snooker craze.
I'd like to be a simple slug
That lives on lettuce leaves
And not an intellectual one
Cos I'm as thick as thieves
I wish I were an artist
In hip-hop, rap or grime
Like Snoop or Dizzee Rascal
On telly I would mime
I wish I had a stronger voice
Than Andrea Boceli
I wouldn't need a microphone
I'd just give it some welly.
I wish I were a brewer
I'd brew by intuition
And through my kilt - a bonny filter -
Make fuel for self-ignition
I wish I were a poet's muse
To help him from confusion
Inspiring people like Ted Hughes
Who couldn't rhyme for toffee
Mmmm....toffee.....
I wish that I'd known Sylvia Plath
And what it was that depressed her
So lead her down my primrose path
So maybe she would have felt much better
I wish I was a messenger
Telegram in hand
To warn of your investiture
As fairest in the land. [pen] Well rhymed.
I wish I were a lightning bolt [Raak] Ta. I had to 'do research'.
That lights the thunderhead
I'd strike you where it hurts the most
When in your marriage-bed!
One really should be careful
When taunting grizzly bears
Not to mention woodland
Where it leaves its wares
I'm glad I'm not a toothpick
A-poking tushypegs
Getting chewed and rather slimy
A-poking round for dregs That'll do.
I wish I were a lumberjack Shut up at the back.
That leapt from tree to tree
I'd hold my chopper in my hand Steady on ...
And wield it lustily
A lumberjack, or lumberjill
Which would I rather be?
I'm lucky to have got the choice
Fluid gender - that is me
I'm going on my holiday
I'd better tell my boss
The whole team's coming with me
'Cos they don't give a toss
I wish I were in Switzerland
Where I've stashed my loot
Instead I'm stuck in Lichtenstein
A tax haven too to boot
I'm just a gnome in Zurich
Amassing piles of gold
Hiding it most secretly
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!
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
'Cos I love it when you push me in
And change my cool to 'thawing' Have I denied someone else a go at rhyming this? Soz...
I wish I could procrastinate
I'll practise it some day
But when I get around to it [Kim - nice :)]
I wish I had a parakeet
I'd chat to it all day
It wouldn't get a word in, and
I have a lot to say
I wish I had a wind turbine
To place atop this hill
To generate some leccy and
Sell it to Brazil.
Brazilian electricity
Just sambas through the wires
Its elegant lubricity
Shines as bright as fires.
Definitely crispworthy, that one.

Is your fire dull and lethargic?

[If that's not glow-wormy enough, feel free to kick it to the kerb.]
If so, it needs more draught I could do with a good draught
Anoint it with some spagyric
(The fan of alchemistic craft) Owwwww.
Hmm, let's try to get back to some good meter and rhyme here . . . hopefully.

If I had an ardvark
I'd set a leopard on it being basically a nasty sod
But as it's armour plated
[Software] As what is armour plated?
(Kim) Shurely the aardvark.
The leopard might not wannit.
I quite liked that one.
Yes, you can bring a leopard to an aardvark, but...
If I had a leopard
And took it for a walk
I then would be in jeopard'
And passers-by would squawk.
[Rosie, Software] But there is no aardvark. The aardvark is merely conjectural. A merely conjectural aardvark cannot be armour-plated.
(Kim) Logically, a conjectural aardvark may take any form whatever within the confines of overall aardvarkiness. It is my contention that such limits do not exclude armour plating or, indeed, a chastity belt.
[Rosie] Agreed, but then ipso facto the armour would also be conjectural.
[Kim]. Nooo, if it wasn't for the chastity belt, then the amour is conjugal.
I don't regret my snarkiness
In fact, it makes me proud
With just one pithy put-down, I [Pen: agreed, but for successful conjugation you have to be in the right mood.]
I stand above the crowd
I wish I were a chainsaw
Zig-zagging through a pine Dutch for 'saw' (n.) is zaag innit.
Instead I'm just a plain saw
Cutting through a vine
I wish I were a genie [pen] I love these linguistic things... Thanks for your "zaagacity"
To grant your every wish
As long as it was weenie
Cos I am skint. Well, -ish.
I rubbed the lamp with vigour
Its magic to arouse
Its puff of smoke grew bigger
As modesty allows.
An apparition formed
Then coughed amidst the smoke
"What the hell's this all about?"
"Is this some kind of joke?
"Here, try this can of Brasso"
"You'll find it's just the thing"
One drop in your espresso
Will start you vomiting
Hidden textSeriously, folks, don't drink Brasso - er, don't - https://jerrychicken.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/brasso-and-its-intoxicating-qualities/
Well, that's not what I wanted
I wonder what went wrong?
I wanted twenty Bensons
Not George and his love song
I'm glad I'm not a buffalo
I'd rather bison be
But either way I'm horny
So, I think I'll hump this tree.
An aardvark is a silly pet
I'd rather have a pig;
They're brainy; I would talk to it (KagomeShuko) Ace filth. Ardderchog yn wir
And find a whirligig
I'm glad I'm not a Tory
As I read in the "Mail"
The Brexit backstop story
Is now the Holy Grail Er, whatever that means
I love to take cold showers
A masochist, that's me
I feel like Austin Powers
But look like Mr T
I wish that I were clever
Like Carol Vorderman
But sadly I am dosy
So I do just what I can Mercy killing
The season is upon us
To spend a load of dosh
I've bought 47 presents
From Harrods 'cos I'm posh
If you need a reason
Why I'm standing here like this
The cubicles are taken up
And I'm bursting for a p*ss Well, someone had to
Inspired by an encounter with a few uncommon words...

If you chance to feel fatigue
All you need's a little feague
Leave egrote and all uhtceare
There's nothing quite like being heare.

feague: to thrust a live eel up a horse's fundament; generally, to excite or jolly along.
egrote: to feign sickness as an excuse for not working.
uhtceare: pre-dawn anxiety regarding the forthcoming day.

I have a cheap thesaurus
An inexpensive low-priced book
It's economical to use
Just open it, and look
All my hair's now orange
Dichromate Dierdre, that's me
I'm bang on trend says Twitter
Like Trump, I'm perfect, see
I wish I were a journalist
Writing porky pies Like Boris Johnson
And very conscientiously
Crossing T's and dotting I's.
I have no need for artifice
My beauty's clear to all
Untainted e'en by dentifrice
I await the curtain call
I wish I were a washing-line
Instead I'm just strung out
Perhaps a glass of summer wine
Would help cure me of gout.
I think I'll take a holiday
In Bali or Majorca
Just somewhere warm and sunny
And some distance from my stalker
I went to see the rodeo
To watch the broncos bucking careful ...
And after that excitement
I was knackered, so no fucking. (Juxt) Great care taken
I wish I were an MEP
Poking fun at Farage
And in the Strasbourg cafes
I'd swerve the milkshake barrage
I wish I were an astronaut
'Cos I'd love astronauting
Wow, that zero gravity
Can be really quite exhausting
I wish I were B. Johnson
And lived in No. 10
Then I'd really f*ck the country up
'Cos I'm a pathogen
Phew, here comes a heatwave
It really isn't fair
The gents perspire, the ladies glow
The nannies merely glare.
I wish I had the confidence
To tell you what I think
Instead, I have the diffidence
To say, "Let's have a drink!"
Let's raise a glass to pen today
A glass a-brim with cheer
Normality is back - hooray!
Unless I have to pay
My garden is a wilderness
And carefully neglected
I'm lacking in green fingeredness
Since I became elected.
They'll never overthrow me
'Cause I weigh 200 lbs
They could bring in the heavies, though
That is out of bounds. mercy killing
I tried to bowl a googly
The batsman was not fooled
He whacked it straight back to me
But 'no ball' was what was ruled.
I'm glad I'm not a bus stop
On a lonely country road
As transport hub I've reached the top
An "important transport node" Hooray!
I'm glad I'm not in parliament
It seems more like a zoo
There's an eagle and a johnber cow oh dear oh dear sorry sorry
That's often heard to moo.
It's time to fetch an adult
The kids do run amok
You'd think at least the House of Lords
Would give a flying fuck pretty much forced, I think
The days are drawing in now
Soon winter will be here
Hibernation is an option
I'll see you all next year.
Switch on the Bluetooth speaker
THEN TURN THE VOLume down
Or else your ears will hiss all night
Because your eardrums' blown
I feed my fish on plastic
They like it lightly fried
They eat and eat and eat and eat
They were fine, until they died.
If something seems a bit awry
Just go back to bed
It'll be alright in the morning
Or if not, I'll be dead.
I found this Roman candle
Burning very bright
But when it gave a sudden phut
I dropped the thing in fright
I wish I had the aptitude
To fix a leaking tap
But my handiness with spanners
Is, alas, just crap I have taken the liberty of putting this one out of its misery.
I wish I had a castle
With a moat both wide and deep
I'd stock it up with crocodiles
Don't stand too close - they leap.
If I controlled the weather
I'd have the sun shine every day;
And moonshine every evening till
My liver wouldn't play.
I think I'll leave the country
For a better one by far
One that welcomes foreigners
I'm thinking... Myanmar?
If I had a catapult
I'd gather all the rocks
I'd launch them with a gleeful twang
While standing in my socks
I think I'll buy a mangonel
They're cheap these days, I'm told
I'd mount it on a carousel
And paint the whole thing gold.
When I become emperor Mwa ha ha
Things will change, you'll see
I'll begin to live ex tempora [Rosie] Good enough?
To reach immortality.
(Pablo) Witty but misspelt. (tempore) Sorree!
I wish I were a porn star risque mode
Impressively equipped
My everything quite monsta
Though certain bits are snipped.
I wish I were a traffic jam
Layered gooseberry, orange, and plum
Tasty, sticky immobility
Hmmmnunumnummmuhrrmnum.
If I had an elephant
I'd place him in a room
I'd take care not to mention it
In case it bringeth doom
A honey badger in the loft
Says he doesn't care [oblig]
About the ever-rising floods
Because he isn't there
Koalas ask for drinks from bikers
I think we're all stumped. The rhythm's not right. How about...
When the Drop Bear needs a drink
It asks the nearest biker
Who answers thus in dulcet tone:
Sorry, there's none. mercy killing
I wish I were a virus oblig.
To medicine immune
I'd make your atoms into mine
And your DNA subsume.
I cough and sneeze and splutter
And spray my bugs on you
Which makes you think, "What utter
plain ignorance.' It's true.
I contemplate the garden
I do it from my chair
I look at all the rampant weeds
And frankly, I don't care
I've just been down to Waitrose
Where the shelves are bare
But lemongrass and bamboo shoots
Are non-essential fare
I just couldn't live without kale
Sorry, the 'without' puts it into limerick metre. I'll have another go.
I've got to have my kale leaves
Ground into bright green soup
Then seasoned lightly, not too much,
Sounds disgusting gloop
There Was a Cat

I'd like to claim I'd illustrated it myself but that won't fool anyone.
Priceless. But it's not signed "By Simons Mith, aged 7 1/4"?
Nah, my handwriting's not that neat now. It does belatedly occur to me that to protect against future 404s I should have put the poem in as alt text.
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