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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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A shiny, wet-nosed doggerel
Came lolloping up to me
And the choppy waves in Dogger'll
Engulf me doggedly
I wish I were a mechanic
And handy with my spanner
And if I built the Titanic
Divided hulls would span ‘er and 1514 individuals would not have perished
The role of Roman consuls
Cannot be overstated
But in the case of old Ford Consuls
They are now equally dated.
Time and tide are loath to wait
Not even for Canute
Will they e'er their course abate
Nasty, short and brute.
Buttered eggs are much the same
Boiled, poached or flambé
555
555
555
555
Serve them with slow roasted game
On cloths of golden chambray
I wish I had a few more days
To perfect this little verse
But others, with their clumsy ways
Barge in and make it worse.
I wish that I’d just spoken up
But now it’s far too late
Instead I'll just go and hide
These sprouts left on my plate.I love sprouts akshully
I love fresh peas with minted sauce
And new potatoes too
Surrounding roast Sumatran rat
Topped with beetle poo.
Next year, or else the year beyond
I'll go to Burning Man
And when I leave, I will abscond
At least, that is my plan
The food you get in Czechia
Sustains the locals well
But in Civitaveccia
It has a nasty smell
555
Is quite a boring number
Though it once represented a cigarette
Still bored. Time for slumber
I wish I didn't have a job
And could laze upon my yacht
But I'd have no yacht if I'd no job
A conundrum, is it nacht?
Olympic fun in Paris town
And everyone's in Seine
E'en those in academic gown
But not those faire du plein
I know I must, I think I might
But perhaps I'd better not
I'm not quite sure that I'm quite right
So far left's all I've got.
Some think that a riot is fun
All that broken glass!
Until, that is, they all get done
Except the upper class
I've got an old typewriter
I can’t get ribbons for it
I'm trying to write a poem
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