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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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From kids going home from school. (Kim) It is, but ladies only.
I wish I were a bowling ball
Heavy, round and black
I'd ram 'em puny bowling pins
Momentum I don't lack. Or is it kinetic energy?
I wish I were a firework
Bright-coloured in the dark
I'd shoot up high into the sky
And try to hit a lark
I wish there was a galaxy
Or, failing that, a Snickers
Which we once called a Marathon
Both as ice cream now for lickers
I wish I were a puppet
I'd come with strings attached
Unless I were the muppet type
With Piggy I'd be matched
I wish I drove a big red bus
A mighty double-decker
I'd pass by every bus stop
To rile each waiting fecker
I wish I had an ASBO Penelope, really, my dear.
Then I would have street cred
I'd go up to a copper
And bash him on the head.
I wish I was Madonna's bra
A right tit though I'd feel Too easy
I'd maximize her cleevage
And her nipples I'd reveal
I wish I could speak Polish
To pronounce "Zbigniew" right
And to also tell my plumber
To polish my pipes bright
I vow to thee my country
(Whichever that may be)
To always pay my taxes
And show you my ID.
I'd like to keep this game alive
I find it rather sweet
So here's another little line
To accomplish this feat
What am I?
I live inside a drainpipe
I'm slimy, cold and green
Some people, though, will kiss me
Turned King I'll make them Queen
The answer to your riddle
Would make a tasty sarnie
Lightly fried with garlic
And eaten by Reg Varney
I wish I were a trucker
Speeding down to Dover
I'd wave two fingers at the cops
And they would pull me over
I wish I were a little mouse
I'd frighten dear old ladies
I'd chase them breathless round the house
In my MatchboxTM Mercedes [Rosie] Tough rhyme
I wish I had my own front teeth [Kim] Elegantly finished
These dentures are the pits
But implants cost a fortune and don't I know it :o(
As do implants of tits....coat?
I wish I were a sorcerer
Possessed of magic arts
I'd cast a spell on Tony Blair
To make him produce farts...coat!!!!... and hat this time around
I wish I were aattery
BUGGER!
I wish I were a battery
With nine volts and square shape
Much better than those triple As
A better shape to tape Bugger of a rhyme to make any kind of sense, Darren
I wish a were an artety
see Rosie's previous response to typo--
I wish I were an artery
Blown up like a balloon
I'd star in my own angiogram
Excision none too soon.
I LOVE the Aneurysm one... more surgical glow worms coming up...
I wish I was a hernia
That's strangulated tight (BTW, has anyone else recently had a form letter from their doctor suggeting an ultrasound scan to detect abdominal aortic aneurysms? Seems to be in fashion right now.)
I'd then be tucked in cosy truss
To let through all the shite. Taxi for Mr Ewjis.
I wish I were a scalpel
In a plastic surgery suite
I'd always be a cut above
To keep the scarring neat
I wish I was a suture
That stitched your lips together
For labial beauty is my aim
Alas, they're made of leather. . . . no comment . . .
I wish I had insurance
Should ever things go wrong [Rosie] Fairly horrific typo in there - Labiaplastysugeon.com... sugeon???
For I have no endurance
Can't plug this leak for long. (pen) Mm, all a bit fishy. Like a stugeon. Er, sorry about that.
I wish I were a sturgeon
My innards worth a mint
But why do people want to eat
Fish eggs, and then be skint?
I wish I were a tube of glue (Irg) Good question. ("Waiter, this jam tastes fishy").
Many things, then, I could stick
I really think I'm stuck on you
But your smell makes me sick
A universal solvent
Better than aqua regia
Would help me clean my teeth each night
A dangerous procedure
This brain transplant is tricky
I've misplaced the cranial nerve
Someone got a sold'ring iron?
Will three-amp fusewire serve?
I wish I were a member (Softers), penultimate one - V good
Of some exclusive club :o)
I'd show up at the AGM
And shout "Let's go downt' pub!"
i wish I were a dentist's drill
Causing untold pain
I wriggle in amongst the nerves
I suggest you don't complain
i wish I were a newscaster
With perfect teeth and diction
And on my head would be a wig
My quiff, a work of fiction
I'm glad that I did Latin
Now I've got quid pro quo
Meliora cogito
though, is not a phrase I know
If language is your raison d'être
Your reasoning's sehr gut
And are without a doubt le maître
So you deserve a w00t!
This looks like a fait accompli
Let's go get a burra peg
This verse has gone all rumply
Let's have some scrambled egg.

I wish I were a newscaster
I'd be so rich and proud
Of getting paid great wads
For what schools call "Reading Aloud".

...and now, back to our usual program...

I wish I were iconic
As on a PC screen
I'd be clicked on all day long
Hmm... now I'm not so keen next!
I'm glad I'm not a Russian doll
Because my name is Doris
I'd hate to be called "Svetlana"
But my former name was Boris coat ...
In butter bean and bacon soup
We hear alliteration
But with plain old oxtail
Just straight concatenation.
I wish I was an Arctic tern
Flying through the blizzards
I'd dive for fish in stormy seas
And gobble up their gizzards. Oblig. But do fish have gizzards?
I wish the dreary London fog [Rosie] The mud shad is a fish with a gizzard, but is unlikely to be found in stormy seas.
Would clear for just a minute
For I am lost; this look like Penge
Or something like that, innit?
I wish I were camel
Instead I've got the hump
In fact I've got a pair of them
(But one may be a mump)
The days are passing slowly
Yet the years go by so fleet
Why don't you take a running jump
re previous line: - Delete.
The days are getting longer
The annual nadir
Has passed, and we look forward to
Seeing your mum, m'dear.
The year is almost over
But another one is due
For this one I will do my best
As more I cannot do.
The new year is upon us
We'll have a resolution glut
But, alas, in one month's time
We'll all be back on website smut
I wish I were a bailiff
I'd crash right through your door
I'd distrain all your Christmas gifts
And press demands for more.
I wish I were a chimney-sweep
Inserting my long brush
I'd clean your flue so very clean
And even cure your thrush Hat and coat oblig. at this time of year, innit?
I wish I were a steering wheel
I'd turn things all around
'Cos I am a control freak
and my limits have no bounds sorry
I wish I were a plural
And not so singulAR
We'd be on every mural
And then become a star
If I were not a "housemate"
In the Big Brother House
I'd be an exhibitionist
And show my pubic louse
I'm glad I'm not a penguin
Living on the ice
I'd rather be a spotted owl
And live on spotted mice
I wish I were John Major Heaven knows why...
And not be Tony Blair
I'd wear a fairly bland grey suit
Oh yes, that's what I'd wear. (Do the voice)
I wish I'd been more careful
When I cut down this tree
Because, you see, the stupid thing
Smashed my conservat'ry. I love the sound of breaking glass.
I wish I were a dancer
Of ballet, jazz or tap
But first I'd need to lose some weight
So I won't look like crap
The supermarket singles night
Is when I do my shopping
I dress up in my finery (Zarbenia) Be bold - Try this, courtesy of of the Univ. of Pittsburgh.
And down the aisles I'm bopping
I'm really very sorry
As sorry as can be
I really should've stopped to think
But I was drunk, you see.
When I was just a nipper
Very many years ago
I kissed a girl called Pippa
How could I stoop so low?
"...and therefore, in conclusion,"
My lecturer would say
"The theorem is obvious"
If Euclid has his way
I'm getting used to living
Well above my means
Therefore I am wearing
My pin-stripes, not my jeans.
Tonight I'll have a curry
Perhaps with bits of lamb
I think a spicy vindaloo
Will make a change from Spam®
I wish I were a meteor
That burnt up in the sky
I'd startle and be wished upon
Then fall to earth and die
I wish I were a mothball
That reeked of naphthalene
My sheer aromaticity
Would keep your wardrobe clean
I wish I didn't have to wish
Or make any decision
But the genie says I must
And do it with precision.
I taught I taw a puddy tat
A tweeping up on me This can be sung to the hymn-tune Diadem.
I looked again and taw it was
A puddy tat indee...
My cat is called Sylvester
My dog is dubbed Stallone
My hamster is named Rocky
Now please leave me alone
Beware of men with pitchforks
Who stalk princes with big ears
In Gloucestershire they breed them
Quite thick, or so one hears
I wish I were a metaphor
Not just a simile
I'd be on ev'rybody's lips
Somewhat like Jade Goody
I wish I were a fixer
Always in demand
I'd never charge high prices
< cockney>"To you, darlin, a pahnd" </ cockney>
I wish I were a Geordie (Irg) Not a Lonodoner, then?
Then I'd say "Whey aye, man"
I've no idea what it means
But at least I've made it scan!
I wish I were a Brummie
Lugubrious but shrewd
Up here I'm in my oil tot
Because I'm in the nude
(yes, that was a non sequitur, but still...)
I wish I were a Scouser
Resenting my victim status - © B. Johnson 2004
I'd pick a lot of fights
With 'em Mancunians that hate us.
I wish I had two pennies
For to rub together
I'd spend them both on bennies
And disregard the weather
I wish (to be quite honest)
That you would go away
My patience, it is limited
My nerves do tend to fray
I wish I were poetic, like
But my speech is yoofy
I guess I'll stick wiv street talk
So as to sound less goofy
I wish I were a student
I'd sleep the whole day long
It helps me to be prudent
And grow up big and strong. There's sensible, isn't it?
I'm glad I'm not a mothball
That fumigates poor bugs
I'd whiff a bit, of naphthalene
And mask the smell of drugs ...speaking of students
I wish I had sagacity (pen) Could be worse. :-)
Then Jade Goody I would choose
I may not be as fat as she
But I could wear her shoes
I think I'll bog off early
I must avoid the rush lovely student stereotyping guys
Be home in time for Neighbours
Viewed with reverent hush.
Today I'll have a lie-in Tuj] We're just jealous...
A lovely duvet day
I'll get up when I want to
Meanwhile I'll hit the hay
I once saw a spoof e-mail from "Management" that included the following: "Every employee shall be entitled to 104 Duvet Days every year. 52 are called 'Saturday' and the other 52 are called 'Sunday'." Well, it amused me.
I wish I had some old rope
Attached to some foul-smelling soap
Just rotting in my shower
The stench doth overpower. This is not meant to be limerick, boys and girls.
I wish I knew my rhyme schemes [Irouléguy] Real life is much the different
My metres and my feet
My triolets and sonnets
That'll keep my scansion neat
Arse! I suck at this, sorry guys and gals.
It's fine - just needs a line break

I Say, Porter! - Arse! I suck at this
sorry guys and gals
Irouléguy - I need a little practice Tuj] As it was in my day ;)
And help from all my pals
I wish I were a hailstone (ISP) Noble contrition, finely expressed. :-)
A-falling from the sky will this do?
I'd try to land on some poor sod
And catch 'em in the eye
I'll no more go a-rovin'
'Cept for my rovin' eye
Just mentally undressing
Those on whom I spy. (ISP) Faultless :-)
Though technically faultless
There's moral issues to pursue deep and meaningful, this
It has to have the spirit
And needs a dab of glue
This Lenten entertainment
Which I will not give up
Involves champagne and a juicy steak
And lots of beer to sup
I wish that it was Easter
With chocolate eggs all round
(Ellipsoidal, actually)
Let pedantry abound
I wish I were a teledu
Making nasty smells
I'd enter small closed spaces
And stink out Tunbridge Wells.
I wish that I could teleport
Like the people on Star Trek
I'd port to Angelina Jolie's bed
And shout out 'Flippin' Eck!' Bad line, Softers. What's that fat-lipped looney got to do with anything on here? Maybe she's one of your fantasies, but she isn't mine!
I wish that Angie's luscious lips
Were planted on my cheek
Or perhaps in other places
That make my legs go weak.
I wish I'd eaten rather less
Of Auntie's rhubarb crumble
It sits inside me like a stone
I can hear my innards rumble
Would you book me an interview?
My current job is boring
I sit among the grey-faced throng
But long to break my mooring.
[R,T,R] Oooh... touching. I actually *do* have an interview on Friday...
I wish that I had chicken soup
Instead of orange squash
But then this straw would be no good (pen) Go for it.
Unless it's cold chicken Borscht
We hope you pass the interview
And make a great impression
You should avoid your Clement Freud
It gives us all depression
If I had 14 fingers
(More than I really need)
I'd be a great guitarist
A dexterous one indeed
If I were in the cabinet
Blair's, or a wardrobe too
I'd surely be kept in the dark
And like mushrooms, fed on poo [irach] a bit of shoehorn required to make that line fit and make sense there, donchoo think? Otherwise, onwards and upwards chaps. Keep together. A-one, A-two, A-one-two-three-four
I wish I was a petrol gauge
That told misleading tales
Like five instead of fifteen quid
A way of boosting sales. By volume, anyway. Two sorts of petrol gauge here.
I wish that pen will tell us
A story that is true
That's nothing like her normal brand
I'd duck if I were you.
I laughed...
I wish I was a Liar
And my nose was five yards long
I'd poke it up Lord Archer's bum
'Cos he says it doesn't pong But we all know about him, don't we boys and girls?
I wish I had a wishing well
I'd drop coins in it an hope
Hrmph!
Tuj - I wish I had a wishing well
Software - I'd drop coins in it and hope
And if my wish did not come true
I'd throw tantrums and mope
I wish I wasn't here right now
I'd rather be in Derry
And I wish I wasn't Tom the cat
'Cos he's from County Kerry
I wish I was a barnacle
Adhering to the bottom
And when they came to scrape me off
I'd shout and scream, God rot 'em.
I wish I were an ocelot
I'd slink around my prey - [Am loving the last two - kudos all round]
I'd sleep in trees - I'd doss a lot Wossa kudo? Is it like a podume?
That's how I'd pass my day
I wish I were a kinkajou
Dweeling in the trees [Rosie] Japanese ideal based on the inherent idea of podumes without the physical objects themselves
My dweel would scatter down to earth
And make capybaras sneeze
Oh, dweel
While dweeling round the whipple tree
Parailing all I'd wotten (Tuj) Ah!
I groiled a nupthuck's pack o' three
Which craulked me something rotten :-(
[R, R, K, C] I'm reminded of Kandra Woods, a game of Jabberwockian verse I've only encountered as part of the currently dormant* Furcation Game but a full version of which took place at MCiOS (also currently dormant**). Doesn't meant I shouldn't have checked my spelling though :P

* a bit hopeful: approaching 1000 days since the last move!
** hopefully dormant on a far, far lesser magnitude
Shall we continue in the same vein for a while?
I wish I were an actroblub
Or knew just what one was
[IS,P] Hmmph .. don't wanna play, eh? NOW what do I do? Carry on regardless Jabber-stylee [as Kim suggested] or attempt to follow your lead? Friday mornings are simply not designed for such decisions :-)
[Chalks] I'd argue that this one could be continued with an attempt to define an actroblub in the Jabba style.
[Ispers] Good argument :-)
I wish I were an actroblub
Or knew just what one was
My quoil stope seems to fit the bill
I'm absolutely pos.
The quirly bims of Ishtaru
Upon the city wall
Their ush-hahas all vixy blue (ISP) There y' are - it's a quoil stope. Say no more. But for the "t" it could be the kids next door - Extreme Crying.
I'd love to paint them all [Chalks] Ispers? Lovely!
Of all the strogs in London
And Witney Scrotum too © Peter Tinniswood, I have to admit.
The Glob, of Hurley Pustulae
looks most of all like you.
The plimp-kneed zilk of Trescoreen
Whom some may july april
Will never gretch the flommits of
Gremlits naar the burbling rill
'Tis time, methinks, to discourse
'pon brassicas and Georges
Legumes and tubers
Pah! wrong scan

Kim - 'Tis time, methinks, to discourse
Irouléguy - 'pon brassicas and Georges
Software - Let's consider legumes too

and sounds of Victor Borge's
*sssssssswish pop*
I like the old tradition
Of rhyme that scans with sense
As for all this modern stuff,
'Twill be banished hence.
I wish I were clairvoyant
For I'd like to foresee
Which witches might be buoyant
And which we'd drown with glee.
I wish I were a hampster
Or a furry hamster too
Or a furry, furry hamster
And hampster coloured too
I wish I wore a witch's watch
Upon my gnarlèd wrist
My timings I would never botch
Appointments never missed
I wish I had a second head
So no need of forked tongue
As such, I've just a second hand
And also a third lung
I wish I were a sewer pipe
A-shifting Mersey trout
My belches, feculently ripe,
Would noxious vapours spout
I wish I were a music box [R,S,R,i] Bizarrely delightful!
So easy to wind up
Thus people would oft take me
For a playful singing pup. - sorry - I posted just to get rid of the darn thing. Not the easiest line to follow, Monsieur Softers, am wondering if you had a final line in mind when you posted?
I wish I weren't an England fan
It's getting somewhat bland
Whether soccer, cricket, rugby
So best stick head in sand.
I wish I were an Irish man
I'd have the name O'Reilly
And cheer the boys at Croker Park
Because I'm really smiley :-)
I want to have a raison d'étre
But sadly can't speak French;
Instead, I'll eat this raisin bread
Je mange, donc je suis wench.
I wish that I could sprachen Deutsch
And read Immanuel Kant
Es wäre gut, and would bear fruit
And like Hitler I would rant
Я не говорю по-русски - that's 'ya nye gavaryou pa russkie' (I don't speak russian)
And have never wanted to
Except when calling up a Huskie
For a bit of how-de-do
I wish I were an isobar
Behind Susan Powell's back
I'd pluck a string on my guitar
Then give her bum a whack
I wish I were a bandicoot
(a bonzer Aussie mammal)
I'd live inside a handy boot
And coat it with enamel moving along...
I wish I were a roundabout
In scenic Swindon Town
I'd be adorned with traffic lights
And make the drivers frown
I wish I'd find a dodo bird
And teach it how to fly
Alas, such thoughts are quite absurd
Can't find one -- wonder why?
I wish I were a traffic cop
I'd stand right in the road
Gesticulating wildly at
Your girlfriend's outsize load
I wish I were a toothbrush
And you were my false teeth
I'd brush up against you gently
In Morningside or Leith
I have no need for silicone
I'm all up-front, you see
My hair and teeth are still my own
And my feet I still can seeThere you go again, Chalks, making us boys all excited ;o)
If I had a ham sandwich
I'd throw away my Spam
And with a ripe tomato
Choke that bastard Sam-I-am. What an irritating sod.
I wish I had some lemonade
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