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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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But young sprightly and gay
I'd give someone a bold poke (irach) Are you?
If they suggest I'm fay
If I were not a lawyer [oldblokes] Is there a minimum age limit to join your club?
I'd be a hypnotist
I'd go to trendy night-clubs Pretty sure I shouldn't have been involved in that last one
And hope to be note-issed. Less than perfect....
I wish I were made of metal (Kim) We welcome fogeys, old and young.:-)
And polished every Tuesday
I'd shine out like a shiny star - is this going to hang around for ages because it's an impossible rhyme?
On National Shiny Shoes Day
I'm glad to be a fogey
With collar, tie and spats
I'll sit and smoke my meerschaum
And curse all youthful brats - Oh well played, Phil!
I'm proud to be a girlie-girl
With pigtails oh so cute Thanks, Chalky, although I must acknowledge inspiration from Sting's "Spread a Little Happiness"
I'll simper and I'll curtsey Chalky, Phil] Sorry, wasn't thinking
But never will I mute
I wish I were more hirsute
With inch-long body hair
Instead I'll make a fursuit
To look like Yogi Bear
I wish I were the Albert Hall
Imposing, tall and round
I wouldn't be the Carnegie
Which has a nasty sound
I wish I were a teapot stout
Nestling in a cosy (irach) You didn't mean a teapot spout, did you? :-)
[Rosie] No, I did mean "stout", as in "I'm a little teapot short and stout, Here's my handle, here's my spout", which incidentally was my first theatrical role as a Kindergarten thespian many moons ago :-)
Dispensing comfort through my spout
- A lovely cup of Rosie! - sorry - couldn't resist
I wish I were a thespian
who played great tragic roles
I'd wow the crowd with my King Lear
Wealth and fame my goals. (Chalky) You haven't met me yet. :-). (irach) I know the one.
I wish I had more energy - [Rosie] and sadly it's looking doubtful now :-(
I'd join the local gym
But sadly I can't move at all
Let alone get trim. (Chalks) Bad news. Hope things improve.:-)
If I were not a brickie
A surgeon I would be
I'd bin my dirty dungarees
'Fore knocking off at three.
If I were not a shot-putter
The hammer I would chuck
I love to swing things and to hurl
And especially sling the muck
whoops :0
If I were not a footballer
No-one would know my name
No Spice Girl would come close to mei
So darts would be my game
If I were not a vicar
I'd still wear my dog collar
I got it cheap on Ebay
But the postage cost ten dollar
If I were not a blogger
I'd have no lady friends
But still I'd sit at my PC
And... well, now that depends...
If I were not a toyboy
I'd be a lumberjack
But not in women's clothing
'Cause a gusset it doth lack
Once I had a little cat
I taught it to drink beer
It used to sit upon the bar
With a 'nebriated leer
I wish I were a b'nana
Yellow, smooth and bent
Served up to a b'wana
In Tangier or Tashkent
I'm glad I'm not a toadstool
Elves and faries I do hate
I'm not a sprite's umbrella
But do help toads to mate.
I wish I wish - oh, HOW I wish
That I was ten years old
And didn't have to go to work
Or do as I am told
I wish I were a worker bee
I'm sick of being Queen
I'd have a much less regal head
Not just be an egg machine.
It only takes an hour or so
To wait for sixty minutes
But since e=mc squared
We must work within the limits
I beat my fleas with money
I do it with my wife
That's not to say my wife's a flea
Its just safer than a knife
As I sat, sad and lonely
Just staring at this page
I thought of all my work to do
As this site's hermitage
At* At* At* dammit!
As I.. I.. I.. I stutter
As I.. I.. I.. I stutter (Ahem..., returning sheepishly, but emboldened)
And str-struggle with my lisp
The www.ords I try to utter
Resemble will-o'-wisp - Phew, that was a struggle - thanks Softers me old mate for a great rhyming challenge :-)
My joints are nearly ready
To tackle Pen-Y-Ghent
Such challenges are heady
When both your knees are bent
I wish I were a footpath
Leading down the glen
A path to tread with measured gait
Just ev'ry now and then
I wish I were an earwig
In fields quite near to Hülen
Rather than being a mere Whig
I wouldn't look so sullen...time for bed..
I wish I were a keyboard
A qwerty one, in fact
With UK English atributes
Like a ' below the @
I wish I were a springbok
With a very springy gait
'Cos cheetahs can't half motor
And slow bods all get ate
I wish I were a ptarmigan
'Tho based somewhere down south
I'd get myself some Dixie chicks
And feed them "nil by mouth"
I wish I were a tuning fork
Which posessed a perfect pitch
I'd hum so sweetly at your touch
You sexy, dirty bitch. ... mine's on the penultimate peg ...
Is this the last of Glow-worm rhymes?
Or will there be yet more?
If so, let our poetic crimes
Offend the Cres' no Mor
I wish I were the last Glow-wormer
Or do I wish I was?
All good things must end, I fear
And why? Well - just because
The time for limericks has come
This sojourn has been pleasant
So fare thee well our glowing worms
I'll just say Mornington Crescent - even though it doesn't scan
hmmm - perhaps it's a sign that we must carry on :-)
While waiting for a signal
From Humph-er -ry the great
I partook of some escallops
Which normally I hate
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