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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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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?
Probably the least competent reverse engineering I've seen in a verse game (although I think CdM was trying to append his bit to the end of Chalky's foreshortened line). I think we should have another go.
And still it makes no sense.
I've read it inside-out and back
Nor who, nor why, nor whence
I don't know how it went off-track
[Projoy] Yes, that was my intention. I was imagining something like

I pled my case remorsefully
He still had points to score
Pressed his point most forcefully
Until I can't no more

which is at least vaguely coherent. :)
I wish I were a versewright's mate
With my quill in hand
I'd scribe the words he doth dictate
And adjust fix them so they scanned
I wish I'd been more skeptical CdM neat
'Bout what I see online
Now I don't know which step to call
forget that, try this: My brain's now the receptacle
For sinker, hook, and line.
I wish had some Chapstick
For my little chap-struck knees
I'd smear it very carefully
And put myself at ease.
I wish I could go back again
To glorious Timbuktu
The Athens of old Mali
And pre-Brexit too
If I were a dinosaur
Which I am, but that's a joke
I'd surely be the cynosure
As fun at me they poke
of mice and men and rats and sots
i weave this ’structive tale
A bunch of gin has sure gots
More alcohol than ale.
I wonder why there are not more
Friv'lous twats like me
I think it's 'cos you're getting old
At almost thirty three
To sleep, to die, to fade away
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