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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.
I like to wear a trilby
Perched up upon my bonce
For now my status will be
The Honourable Ponce
I wish I were a bi-plane
So I could soar above
I'd look down at the earth below
At couples making love. Most edifying
I didn't go to bed last night
I stayed up watching telly
It sent me off to sleep all right
But turned my brain to jelly
I wish I were a pair of jeans [p,I,R,D] Excellent!
Of worn and faded blue
My nice snug fit, it is the means
Of getting close to you.
I wish I was an aubergine
Purple, long and firm
I know I would be popular
In the med-i-um long-term
I wish I had two Langoustines
The gourmet that I am
In fact I have three mangosteens
Two turnips and a yam.
I fail to understand, ma'am
Why my cakes never rise
I've even added VIAGRA
To the icing - was that wise?
I wish I were a spider
I'd spin myself a web
I'd unpick silken underwear
And scare to death a deb Darren] Now what have we said about awkward rhymes?
I don't begrudge a shilling
For my arse, it is not tight
In fact, it is quite willing [Irouléguy] What about "Bush's brother Jeb"?
To house homeless folk at night
I wish I were a lumberjack (Softers) You never told me!
All lithe and butch and tall Which adjective to end the line with? Oh OK.
I'd dress up in my girlie clothes [Rosie] some things are best left unsaid ;-)
And mince around each Fall
I wish I was a Wotsit
A crunchy, cheesy snack
I go down well with sweet white wine
Or a Guiness pack
I'm casting off my wordly goods
So I will join the poor
The chavs and spotty youths in hoods
Their giggles I'll ignore.
I wish I were a naturist
And didn't have to dress
I'd buy a range of merkins
For dealing with the press.
I wish I'd been to Sydney
Before they built the bridge
It makes it look so ugly
Much like a large Smeg fridge - clutching at the only available straw
I want to tame a lion cub
I think I'll need a chair
But if its name is Elsa
I'd only style its hair
I wish I had a big white van
I'd drive it every day
I'd be the archetypal man
Even though I'm gay Strictly stated for the sake of the rhyme only
I wish I were a hooligan
Big and strong and thick
With "Engerland" tattooed in red
And white upon my dick Sorry, sorry, sorry...
I wish I were a photon (Botherer) A dick tattoo? Wow! Respect! :-)
Ignoring Newton's laws I thought '...laws of physics' but couldn't think of any rhyming possibilities
I'd whiz along null intervals
And hurtle through closed doors
If I were an electron
My negativitee
Would shield me with a 'lectric field
In nano-tech-nol-gee
I wish I were a glow-stick
a-waving in the stands
But now that England's knackered
I'll just sit on my hands
I wish I were a linesman
I'd wave my flag like mad
The players mostly shun us
Which makes us very sad.
I wish I were an umpire
(It's my nickname)
I wish I were an umpire
To fathom right from wrong
I'd stand with utmost gravitas
My legs are square, and strong.
bokes with gravitas
Did you hear the new Ralph Lauren outfits for Wimbledon's line judges were splitting in a crucial place when they assumed their active stance? They had to go back to the AELTA's seamstresses to be double stitched... oh how we laughed.
I wish I was a seamstress
Stitching private places
Getting line judges back to work
And save them from disgraces.
I wish I were a hailstone
I'd bounce off someone's head
And if I had grown large enough
I might kill them stone dead
I wish I were a stormcloud
All dark and full of thunder
My voice would roar for miles around
From Up Here to Down Under.
May I interject and say how much I've enjoyed the last 6 (yes, six) verses? Yes? Thank you! Now, onwards and upwards...
I wish I'd won the Lotto
I'd take it all in cash
I'd go out and get blotto
then dine on pie and mash
I wish I were a drawbridge
Portcullis, Mott or Bailey
I'd do my bit to ward the foe
Right off. I'd do it daily.
I wish I were an Orchid
So delicate and rare
I'd hide in some obscure locale
And quietly flaunt my ware
I wish I had more fingers
And just one extra thumb
Another arm or two would help
But not another bum.
If all the world were chocolate
And all the seas were jam
The sun would surely melt it all
And bake into a flan.
If I was mighty Caesar
I'd conquer all the Brits
But then I'd tick off Brutus
He'd stab me in the tits
I wish I were a telephone
With numbers on my face
And when somebody rang me
I'd clang the bells within my base

Sexual Intercourse tailed off
In nineteen ninety-three
(which was much too soon for me)
Between the birth of my second son
And my vasectomy.
- ...and now, back to our usual program...
If I were Ozymandias
I wouldn't make such boasts
I'd beware of global warming
And disappearing coasts
I wish I were a laser beam
Coherent, thin and straight
Would I be red or I be green?
Such answers I await. ... that's got shot of that one. Now for another ...
I wish so much I'm sure to die
Without acheiving many
Yet, even if just one came true
You might all call me 'Jenny'
A simple way to make new friends
And get out of the house
Is, sign up with the RAF
And fly with Mighty Mouse
I love to wear tiaras
They're dear; I make my own
I also knit my own ball gowns
Plus my wigs are home-sewn
My feet are gently melting
So I'm two inches shorter
Perhaps I should have cooled them
In buckets full of water
I wish I had some sweetcorn
But I just can't think why
Perhaps I like the texture
I'll tell you by-and-by
I wish I was a mermaid
With fishtail and blonde hair
You'd never get me up the duff <hypocrisy> Sorry to lower to the tone </hypocrisy>
Cos I'm just scales down there
A single North Sea Herring
Has 20,000 kids
Myself, I aim to beat that
'Cause I've sired four million squid(s)
If every squid in the ocean
Were fed with marmalade
Then my dish of calamari
Would taste like orangeade
I tried to dance a tango
Alas, I've two left feet
Instead I'll stomp just like Dave Clark for those old enough to remember
And never find the beat.
I'd like to learn to foxtrot
I need a dancing fox
'Coz when I try it on my own
I tangle up my socks
The head of Alf Garcia
Oops...
The head of Alf Garcia
Is wanted everywhere
So bring it to me pronto
With its unknowing stare.
I had a little website
No ads would it bear
Nor irritating pop-ups
Just edible underwear
I think you've created a new nursery rhyme there.
Jack and Jill went up the pub taking the cue
For a little light binge drinking
Afterwards they felt quite sick
Is this an example of a glow worm that doesn't inspire? Could be Line 2 which is tricky to match. Hey - I'll finish it anywise ... if only to open the door to something a bit more sparky ...
So puked up and were stinking.
I wish I had some backbone
And loads of attitude
I'd tell all the b*stards out there
Not to be so rude
Once I went to Mexico
And met some senoritas
But they all called me 'gringo'
And made me eat fajitas
If you go to Edinburgh
Pass by the Firth of Forth
Take the fifth road on the right
You'll fall in the Forth of course
I wish I had an aardvark
Or two, so they could mate
I would, of course, avert my gaze
When aardvarks conjugate
My terrapins are frisky
They're dancing the gavotte (Raak) Have you been at that Hungarian phrase-book again?
My turtles, on the other hand
Might mate, or they might not
I wish I were a metronome
With timing strict and true
I would tick away the hours
Till my time's up with you
I wish I'd paid the gas bill
So that my range would work
'Cos rubbing sticks together's hard
Just makes me feel a berk
I'm getting all excited
I'm feeling all a-quiver
My brother's getting knighted
Just for falling in the river
I wish I were an emu
Or an ostrich or a rhea
I'd peck at Rupert Murdoch's legs
While we all stand and cheer.
I wish i wasn't Marley's Ghost
I envy Christmas Past
I'd like a Christmas Present
And huge turkey repast
I wish I were a pussycat Shouts of "YOU ARE".
And you were Tweety Pie
I'd try to sneak up to you
And make you scream "You lied!"
I wish I had some shepherd's pie
With which to fill my tummy
With onion gravy, chips and peas
I'll have to ask my Mummy.
I wish I had a pint of ale
Tho' two would be much better
I might just spill them on my lap
Then my crotch would be wetter
I wish I were the Ace of Spades
I'd trump all other suits
And if I were hidden up a sleeve
A French croupier might shout "Zut!"
I know it wasn't very good, but that one was dying a death...
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