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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'm all dressed up and fancy
But I've nowhere to go
I'm told that necromancy
Is popular below.
I wish I were a hacksaw
With strong serrated blade
I'd cut right through the bullshit
That's how Glow Worms get made - slo-mo in here
I wish I were a magpie's nest
That's full of stolen treasure
I'd pick over the hidden treats
To do so gives me pleasure
I wish I weren't inclined to think
When late at night in bed
That I'm not going to sleep a wink
For fear I'll wake up dead
As I was walking out I found
A silver coin upon the ground   AABB declared
I'm rich, I thought, until I saw
Someone who clearly needed it more.
Quite neat, I think, although a touch of the shoehorn is needed in one place.
Hidden textSomeone who needed it much more.
As I was walking out I heard
A mournful plaintive cry
Next-door's cat had caught a bird
And ate it by and by
I wish I had a mocking bird
To mock you all day long
Because you are a shocking turd
And more than often, wrong.
:^D
There's something very pleasing about collectively written gentle rhyming insults.
I wish I had a leaky boat
To row on my canal
Shall I add a cheeky note
Or one that's just banal?
I once noticed that a very unremarkable picture of mine on Flickr was getting a lot of clicks. Then I realised that the caption included the word "canal", but I'd left off the first letter.
I want my privets widely viewed
For my topiary is fine
Some might say they're mildly rude
Like privates, by design.
You know how badly these things go
When scansion is awry
As weaker poets' failings show
No matter how they try
I'm glad I'm not a tuning fork
With but a single note
For I have a complex waveform
And a terrible sore throat
I wish I had more sex appeal
But wallflower, that is me
I hang about in corners
And I'd rather watch TV.
I wish I were on holiday
In some exotic place
Dreaming I was far away
From all the human race.
I think I've had enough of work Ain't that the truth
It takes up too much time
It dulls the soul but pays the bills
Oh, buddy, spare a dime?
[RTG] Nice
They say that work, and lack of play,
Will make you rather boring
But I have always found a way
To live it up while choring.
Well, that's the Jubilee done
These flags are now redundant
Until the next coronashun
When once more they'll be abundant
I wish I had a magic wand
Such havoc I would wreak
As master of the demi-monde
I'm half-price all this week.Moving swiftly on...
I'm glad I'm not a hosepipe
Because I'd soon be banned
From pissing in the garden
In a manner underhand
I wish I were in Essex
'Cos I'm a dreadful chav
I'd down ten pints of Stella
Then puke up in the lav. oblig.
Great stereotyping there, is there more?
I wish I were in Bristol
In my Vauxhall Astral car
Scoffing some bananals
Down 'arbourside Oo Ar
Ah wush ah were in Glasgy
Tae swag doon Sauchiehall
And Gie m'sel a swally
Is't me ye're lookin' at, Jimmy? traditional
Hmmm... I wish I were Mancunian
Let's 'ave it. Proper sound
But you all think I'm in Corrie
'Cos Boddingtons you've downed.
I'm glad I'm not a scouser
With inimitable speech
It's way more posh in Southport
And great on Formby beach. Hooray!
If I sound like a Brummie
As Noddy Holder does
You'd imagine I was scummy
As Noddy Holder was
Hidden textIt most certainly _duz_ rhyme
It's my turn for Prime Minister
I'll soon have this mess fixed
I won't do owt that's sinister oblig.
'Though feelings may be mixed
I've got loads of fireworks
They don' arf make a racket
We'll blow up all those dire berks
Tho' they cost a packet
I glad I'm not in Qatar
But I'll watch it on the box
Where punditry and chat are
Making unimportance into shocks.
The 12-day countdown starts today
so let's go down the pub
And sing a jolly roundelay
Then get some beer and grub.
We want some figgy pudding
But Tesco is sold out
So I'll make do with some parkin
And a jug of curried trout.
Surprising what Tesco stocks nowadays!
Forgot that auld acquaintance
And never brought to mind
Eschew that cup of kindness
That's not the way, you'll find.
Twelfth Night is upon us
Whichever night that is
Hidden textI've never been quite sure how to count it.
We marked the date with honours
At our local's Annual Quiz
Burns Night us upon us
I'll get the bandages
Let haggis take the honours
I don't care what he sez
The trouble with marmalade
Lies deep within my psyche
It's a pithy problem
Trauma for breakfast - oh crikey.
I wish I'd heard the news that
The sun's going supernova
Best get on a Vogon ship
To wait safely till it's over.
I'd like to thank the one-eyed toad
Who plays for Tottenham Hotspur
She's often seen at White Hart Lane
Hoping for a transfer
Outside it's wet and windy
Inside, it's quite warmer
Really, I can't wait for spring
Oh! Is that the first Keir Starmer?
Mercy killing
Let's try and get this back on track
Just like a railway train
So you go lift it from the back
The train will take the strain
I wish I was an artichoke
Classier than a cabbage
I'd look down on asparagus
And all the other baggage.
Now if I were a penguin
An emperor I'd be!
I'd lord it over all my realm
In this bloody freezing sea
I'm going to dine al fresco
In Skegness's bracing air
My ready meal's from Tesco
I'll eat it with amazing flair
I'm going to take a holiday
South Georgia here we come
Among the sheep and penguins
I'm bound to feel at home.
<
I want to take a few days off
Just to spite my boss
I'll pretend I've got a nasty cough
If he sacks me—that's his loss!
It's finally the end of term
See you in September
I now have time to wiggle and squirm
Which I'll do, as a Morniverse member.
I wish I had a crystal ball
Just like Mystic Meg's
I'd swing it hard against the wall
And smash it just like eggs oblig.
I wish I were a solar flare
Bursting into space
Making havoc with the upper air
Whilst leaving not a trace
I wish I had a giant cake
To satisfy my greed
But oh my friends, make no mistake
A wish is not a need.
To start my little Hallmark rhyme [KS, R, C, R] That last one - too perfect! Cake all round!
I'm scribing with a pen
Though I'd rather be a mime
It's nice just now and then
Seasons come and seasons go
But love is aye forever
I only wish that that were so
For some divorce will sever
I think that ev'ryone complains
About the town of Bracknell
And all because that rower, James
Did change his name to Cracknell
When I join the House of Lords
And give my maiden speech
I'll summon all my Zords
To take Black Rod to the beach.
I wish I lived upon the moon
To see earth rise each morn
From dusk right through to dawn
I wish I lived in outer space
Far from the madding crowd
With Bathsheba Everdene
Or with Girls Aloud
I'm glad I'm not a doctor
'Cos I'd be underpaid
Not like a college proctor
Where fortunes can be made
I wish I had an antelope
For they are very tasty
When butchered fit for Masterchef
To make a Kenyan pasty.
I wish I hadn't started this
It leads I know not where (Raak) That's not what they call them in Cornwall
So please be mindful when I kiss
You don’t know what’s “down there”.
I wish that were Santa
For then I would see
When you last had your chimney swept
And who's atop your tree
I wish I had a Christmas tree
With a fairy on the top
Against which my small dog could pee
He will; he cannot stop
If I were a Santa's elf
I'd hammer all the toys
And into one or two I'd slip
Some poisonous alloys
They said that this dog was for life
But life is short for some (Bis) That's rather limericky
[Rosie] Oops...
So I've made him my next of kin
In case people think that I'm dumb.
I wish I spoke Swahili
Then I could reconnect
Perhaps more touchy-feely
No, I'm more select
If I were a snowman
With a carrot for a nose
Angular and Roman
You'd see how much it glows.
If I knew then what I know now
I'd choose a different course
No longer would I need to bow
To Romans, Jutes, and Norse (lament of the Iceni)
I wish I knew the secret
Of trying to sing in tune
But I have a voice just like a frog
So I'll serenade the moon.
I don't forgive the roundheads
For actions cavalier
Old Olie was a tyrant
And he took away our beer
I wish I weren’t innumerate
So mathematically numb
I can't work out the interest rate
Being Chancellor was dumb
I'm glad I'm not Jeremy Hunt
For taxing is his role
And I feel taxed just standing up
But rhyming slang's his goal.
I hold it, hold it, hold it more
My effort is in vain
For now it’s down there on the floor
Next time I'll use a crane.
I wish I were an elephant
In the corner of the room
All would see but none would tell
That I'm the voice of doom.
I wish I were a punk rocker
With piercings in my face
For this would be more likely than
The plan that is in place
I wish I were a nightingale
I'd charm the world with song
Which flighty chorus might entail
And sing all night long.
I'm glad I'm not a princess
'Cos I'd be so fussy.
Sign up to OnlyFans dear chap
Become a shameless hussy!
I'm glad I'm not Marcel Marceau
Or I’d have this to say:
"                                         "
But that was yesterday
I'm glad I'm not a busted flush
For that's an awful fate
But I am just a failure
At getting my first date.
I'm glad I'm not a man of war
A hydrozoan beast
I'm more inclined to think of peace
In Portugal at least
I wonder what's on the box
The one containing tricks
Oh. Nothing. I'll go out instead.
And find nothing at the flicks.
If I smell the roses
I might just prick my nose
And those who prick their noses
Stub their knees and pick their toes.
I long for obsolescence
Swift turnaround's my thing
I'll transmigrate my essence
For to nothing I do cling
These boots were made for something
And something's what they'll do
Observe as they do one thing
That's walk all over you
The quality of mercy
Depends on who you know
Luckily, my friends agree
You ordered flesh to go.
I wish I were in Amsterdam
To see the parakeets
While sipping on my Advocaat
And moistening the seats.
I know a bank where wild thyme blows
That's sweetly sprung in June
And like my love the musk-red rose
I’ll feel a right ass soon.
To be or not to be, that is
The pencil salesman’s lot
But personae more dramatis
Sketch a much darker plot
Is this a dagger or a sponge
Or duck-billed platypus?
Neither, it is virtual
It's next-door's tatty puss. Softers, old bean, this is not a f****** limo
If music be the food of love
Then jazz it up I say
But if you like your love life bland
It's Musak all the way
Alas poor Yorick who I knew
Quite well, but that was then
Just thinking on him makes me blue
In cat lives he's on ten. (Softers) Sorry - inappropriate comment a couple of goes back.
Today I've got a toothache True. [Rosie] No sweat.
I'd like to pull it out
But with breath to make a dentist quake
I'll close my lips and pout
I wish I had a dentist's drill
Hidden textIs it safe?
; A bag of shiny gems
A glass of that pink water
From which all comfort stems.
I wish my drill could crack a safe
I wish this safe would crack
Maybe I'll use TNT
Which lacks a rhyming knack
.. is ABAB rhyming pattern obligatory? Have often wondered ..
ABAB has symmetry,
ABCB surprises.
ABAB? ABCB?
Both fine rhythmic devices.
Hidden textIMO, anyway.
I wish my Worms had rhythm
Instead, I have the blues
Hidden text[Chalky] The instructions to the game suggest ABCB is acceptable but I think we should aspire to the more pleasing ABAB form. It is not like we are in the realm of difficult poetry here. :)
Because I'm stuck at Witham
Until my train segues
This verse will be my opus
And magnum let it be (Raak) I am sure (i.e. not absolutely sure) it's "Wittum". (Pj) I chortle.
A work of such wide scope, as
Transcends mere you and me. [Rosie} I find now that I cannot remember how I've heard it when "this train will terminate at Witham, from where a rail replacement bus etc.". OTH, "rittum" ...
[Witham] If it's the one in Essex, I used to work there and it was "Wittum" at that time.
[Rhymes] the original glowworm was abcb, and we did do an aabb not long ago. It's doggerel, it probably doesn't matter much.
The A12 up from Chelmsford
I've travelled many times.
(Being from that part of the world, it is indeed Witt'm. I assumed Raak knew this and so decided to push the "misunderstanding the pronunciation from the spelling" joke a centimetre further.)
I'd leave my desk in Elmsford
For another town that rhymes.
I wish I were an orange
Unrhymably aloof
But sharply dressed and full of zest
In brandy, 80 proof

I wish I were an orange
Unrhymably aloof
And on sale for two shillings, j-
-ust to show that that's the troof
It only takes an integer
You tried to type a fraction
A practice much more vintage-r
But still requires redaction. (Pj) I jess lurve your grammar
A voice, ethereal silver
Calls me in the night
In spring-green rhyme, until ver-
-dant, green and bright
I wish that silver turned to green
December turned to May
However, life is not pristine
(Which made you drop your K)
I wish I'd listened closely
To what my Mum told me
'Cause what she said was mostly
'Bout my value if she sold me. bit brutal
A league, a half, and onward rode
Six hundred men at arms
They simply could not have knowed Poetic licence. Just renewed it.
The extent of Alfred's charms
The cake, I've gone and burnt it
There's nowt else left for tea
That were a reet fuckup, weren’t it?
He curs'd, historic'lly
On second thought, rhetoric'lly.
I wish I were a piano key
Caressed by your fair hands
But I'd likely be the bottom B
And that wish no longer stands
I wish that I could stand atop
A peak in Darien
With widened eyes and wild surmise
I'd go down again
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
I'll scribe it on a post-it
If I no longer had my arms
I'd join the Paralympics
But if instead I lost my charms
I'd photoshop my gym pix
If your skin is always yellow
Check your liver function
If it's fine then just be mellow
And apply a little unction.
When my toes just touch the water
They go completely numb
But if I run and leap right in
I'm bound to freeze my bum.
Walking in the rain is nice
Says Cherrapunji girl
The monsoon has not arrived
So she executes a twirl
Careful with that axe, Eugene!
The blade is razor-sharp
You'll slice my leg and my blue jean
's And the gut strings of my harp.
I wish I were no longer here
’Cause there is so appealing
The grass of home is not as green
As that big roundabout in Ealing
If I had an eel today
I'd make eel pie and mash
A good old east end staple
Which fails to cut a dash (vomit emoji)
The tumbrils roll along, along
The executions never end
But I face it with a merry song
Ascend, ascend, ascend, ascend.
You'll meet with Madam Guillotine
In mcios
So smear your hair with brillantine
You'll still be one head less. all right, fewer
[Rosie] During the French Revolution, the Parisian supermarkets had to put in "one head or fewer" aisles, I understand.
How about a reverse glow worm?

Until I can't no more
Pressed his point
                              most forcefully
The man there smoking a joint
What was that?
I mean...
The man there smoking a joint
Most forcefully
Pressed his point
Until I can't no more
Have we invented the modern poetry version of a glow-worm?
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