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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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Why Apple™ is so wonderful
Despite not having Word.
I wish I were a firework
Waiting for ignition
My stick stuck firmly in the ground
Will jeopardise my mission You put the stick in a tube stuck in the ground as it goes up with the body of the rocket, Softers. If you stick it in the ground, the rocket ain't going anywhere.
[pen] firework isnt = rocket, indeed some fireworks require the sticking-in-the-ground simply because it's safer that way, but I see where you're coming from
[pen]I thought it was a neat finish :o)

Software - I'm glad I'm not at Wimbledon

Where wind and rain prevail
Much nicer to sit snug at home
With a tankard full of ale
I wish I was a centipede
With all my legs intact
Of kneecaps I would have the ton
Or more, and that's a fact
I wish I was a grapefruit
Juicy, big and round Now, now ....
I'd squirt my juice onto your face
Then watch you writhe around.
I wish I were an acorn
A-dangling in my cup
I'd grow up to be a shady oak
Beneath which drinkers sup
I wish I were an Ouija board
The naïve I would then trick
With messages from t'Other Side
Like this one; "You're all thick!"
"The water's creeping up our road!"well, not mine, but a good friend from Oxford is coming here tonight as his road is being slowly inundated :o(
Defying gravitee Bloody pedant.
When in reaches my abode
I'll abandon ship and flee!
I wish I were a cowpat
Chock-full of biomass
In the sun then I shall dry
to a discus, not morass
I wish I were an asteroid
Wand'ring round the sun
When I got bored of orbiting
I'd crash a planet and be done
I wish I were a crater
Perhaps one on the moon
I'd keep cheese cool for later
Rather, as one says, than soon. Cheese crater, cheese grater. I dunno.
I wish I were a lightbulb
I would be so switched on
But, unpredictably, I'd pop
(or flicker, if neon).
I wish I was an inert gas
So noble I would be
I need no friends and make no bonds Explain XeF6, then, clever clogs.
I'll float, as an anomaly
Welcome, enigma2060. Don't I know you?
I wish I had an inkling
But I think I've missed the point
I'm sure I once knew something
My brain's gone; it's this joint.
I wish my nose were shorter
For people think I lie
Or that I am prying
When it pokes them in the eye.
I wish I drove a big red bus
Along a big bus lane
I wouldn't stop for passengers
I'd drive them all insane
I wish I was a frying pan
Sizzling on the stove
Your bacon would come out real crisp
A breakfast treasure trove
I wish I were the Ace of Spades
The Leader of the Pack
I would trump all other cards
Red's red, but Black is black.
I wish I were a harem guard
My scimitar all curvy
But the limit to my manhood
Is sky-high 'cos I'm pervy.
I wish I were Hungarian
A Magyar through and through
I'd feed all day on goulash
Rhapsodise on paprikash too
I wish I had a caravan Would save all this 'Moving House' lark
The desert I would cross
I'd own ten dromedaries
Of which I'd be the boss.
I wish I were in Ngrongoro
A safari I would take
To see migrating wildebeest
(They take five hours to bake)
I wish I was a sofa bed
Of mighty width and girth
I'd still be quite uncomfortable
To someone giving birth.
I wish I was a colander It's a strain, it really is
Round and full of holes
I'd do my job hole-heartedly
And drain myself in bowls
I wish I was a clerihew
Fame and glamour as my theme
But peas and honey are my lot
The rest is just a dream.
Ii wish my lips were cherry-hued
And not just chewed and hairy
I'd do things that are very rude
To prove I'm not a fairy
I wish I were a piano string
A-stretched out very taut
I'd resonate in harmony
When e're I think I ought
I wish I were a sonnet
Five feet by fourteen long
I'd place my thoughts upon it
Whether right or wrong
I wish I were a limerick
Instead of four-line verse
My third and fourth lines would then rhyme
And scan, and be quite terse.
I wish I were more handsome
To pick up lots of girls
Their hearts I'd hold to ransom
As they'd run fingers through my curls
I wish I were a Hero
And pref'rably not dead
'Cos then I'd do heroic things
Instead, I stay in bed.
[CdM] Preview, idiot!
I wish that I had second sight wouldn't need preview then, would I?
As back-up for the first
Such fortunate clairvoyance
Makes one seem rehearsed.
I wish that I had stayed in bed
For getting up today
I strained my back and must sit down
O woe! Alack! Alay!
I do my homework nightly
Just to please my teacher
This essay is on Superman
She likes a Sci-Fi creature
I have no time for hypocrits
For I am free of cant
And I'm truly open minded
I am not prone to rant
My virtue is unparalleled
Yet my life is full of woe
It started when my ego swelled
Through doorways it won't go.
As God once said to Moses,
Take these tablets twice a day
And then, as one supposes
His command meant letters prey.
I wish I were a maggot
Impaled upon a hook
I'd tempt voracious fishies
With a come-and-get-me look
Heheh - last handful have been marvellous.
I have no use for peppermills
That grind exceeding small
I like my pepper crunchy
Of no pep-per at all
I used to be quite boozy (Chalky) The mind boggles
But now I'm on the wagon
Since then I got a floozy
Now I'm sober, she's a dragon
My name is Doctor Pepper
Academia's my domain
When students need a sugar-rush
They slurp my liquid cane
I wish I were a p'liceman
Carrying a truncheon
I'd bash the suspects in the cells
And then slope off for luncheon
[R, i, R & K] Perfect.
I wish I was a coathook
Inside a bathroom door
Upon which hangs your bathrobe
While you're clad with nothing more
I wish I were a mulberry
Hanging on a bush
Succulent and tempting
Until I turn to mush
I wish I was a teapot
Short and stout and hot
A bit like Harry Secombe
But then Welsh I'm not
I wish I was a surly wench
And you a handsome knave
But you are just a burly mensch
'Bout whom I cannot rave.
I wish I were a racehorse
I'd gallop like the wind
But after the five furlong post
This wish I now rescind.
I wish I had a beaten sword
My fields require the plough
So I'll see the local blacksmith
After I sell my sow
I wish I were a plumber
I'd plumb the ripest drains
My rods and hooks would rummage well
Who cares about the stains?
Tuj, Raak, Software, Rosie] Very nice.
I wish I were a chimney sweep
My face all smeared with soot
I'd stick my big brush up your flue (CdM) Cheers, and a belated plaudit for your burly mensch. V good.
Full length - that's fifty foot!
I wish I ware a stevedore
A-working in the dock
A deckhand or a roustabout
With one eye on the clock
I wish I were a poet
A job to which I'm not adverse
My couplets I would craft with care
My image I would nurse.
I wish I had a mandolin
To play and pluck and strum
I'd be just like Corelli
And play with just one thumb.
I wish I had a blue mohawk
And a beard dyed flaming red
With green-tinged skin and Vulcan ears
I'd look like I was dead
I wish I were a blowtorch
Carried in a plumbers bag
I'd be good at heated blow jobs....Coat!!!
But I'm really not a slag
I wish I had elastic arms
What mischief I could make
I'd be just like Mr Tickle® Roger Hargreaves
Unless your giggle's fake
I wish I were an apple pie
And you a pot of cream
I'm all fibre, you mere fat
But together we're serene
I wish I were a joint of lamb
Slowly roasting on a rack
You'd drool just at the thought of me
And the cutlery attack
I wish I were a polyglot
Familiar with tongues
I'd speak to all the world with ease
In places quite far flung[s]
I wish I was a prophet
A soothsayer or seer
I'd outdo Nostradamus
And on TV appear. (Softers) I note with approval that the adjective "agrees" with the noun.:-)
I wish I was a fountain pen
Filled full of blackest ink
Your shirt pocket I would stain with glee
I then get binned, I think.
I wish I had three wishes
And that, in all, makes four.
A wine-jug, loaf of bread, and thou
Submissive on the floor coat!
I wish I were in Birmingham
A-visiting my mama
Her name is Marlene, as you'd guess
And Daddy's name's Osama
I wish I had a wishing well
For then I'd make a wish
What it is I just can't tell
Being indecisive(-ish).
I wish I didn't have to wish
I'd like to trust to fate
Whatever it may throw at me
Inshallah. God is great.
I wish that it would pour with rain
Instead of slowly drizzle
My garden then would turn to mud
My bonfire quietly fizzle.
I wish I was a rocking horse
My sh*t would then be rare
The bookies would all hate me
But I really wooden care
I wish I were a dry-stone wall
Spanning hill and dale
Breaking wind from east and west -Loving your work chaps - specially on the last 6 :-)
So best not to inhale. (Chalky) Really! An' I fought you was a lady. :-)
I wish I were a mandible
Chomping down on chow
I hope there are no bones in it
If there is then I'll go "Ow!"
I wish I could articulate
And n-n-not sp-speak with a st-stammer
Then I'd say things with conviction
Such as "Hazel Blears, God damn 'er."
If anyone had warned me
That lard was bad to eat
I wouldn't now weigh twenty stone
And a heart that doesn't beat
I wish I had an extra ear
So I could hear the sound
Of one hand clapping in the woods
In glorious Sensuround©
I had a little nut tree
It bore a lot of stuff [unlike the one that bore 'nothing' - how mean-spirited was that?]
Such as gold and silver baubles
But still, it's not enough gimme gimme
I wish I was a lord-a-leaping
Over buxom wenches
Alas, I fell on one of them
With t*ts like Judi Dench's (Sorry - it was the cleanest of 5 versions I came up with)
I wish I was a thespian
On sunny Thespos isle
I'd sit and sip my ouzo
- I'm resting. Luvvie-style
I uttered a profanity
It rang throughout the room (Phil) She is magnificent, but alas no chicken.
My faux pas, a calamity
Will haunt me to the tomb
"Mum's the word," the vicar said,
"My wife must never know"
"That I'm a closet atheist"
But I just go with the flow
I wish I were old Santa Claus
My life would be so jolly
I'd spend my holly-days outdoors
A-drinking schnapps and bolly
My beard is long and fluffy
And my belly's wobbly
I rather fancy Buffy
But so does old Tom Cobleigh.
I wish I were a present
N'eer future, nay, nor past
The knife-edge moment that is life
Is over now. Oh blast.
I wish I were a great big toad (CdM) Don't do it. We love you really.
All slimy, green and warty
I'd feast on yummy damselflies
And end up fat and forty
I wish I wish I wish I wish
I wish I wish I wish
I wish a wishy-washy fish
Would wish a fishy wish
I wish the rain would stop a while
Then I could dry my hair - [irach, Phil] LOVE the wishy one :-)
A scarecrow's life is not much fun
And of me no-one does care Ahhhhh!
I do not want for anything
I've everything I need
A house, a car, a loving wife
And NO children to feed!
I wish I were a Christmas elf Kim, that's absolutely right
I'd sabotage the prezzies
A hand grenade inside a sock
Condoms for the lezzies. Not terribly witty, but there are precious few rhymes.
I make recycled paper [Rosie] Made me larf :o)
From things my cat brings me
My favourites are fur balls
For solvent, use its wee. Ever the chemist, alas. (pen) That's no bad thing this time of year, though I thought you laffed rather than larfed. :-)
I wish I had some acetone
Nail varnish to remove
Well, oxidise some propylene (irach) You were warned. :-)
Through a palladium groove
I had imagined a different outcome for the above:

I wish I had some acetone
Nail varnish to remove
'Cos I dress in women's clothes
My wife does not approve

Now moving switfly on ...

I wish I were in pantomime

I'd play Whittington's cat
With big black ears and boots and tail
And I'd hiss, and fiss, and spat.
I wish I were a cracker
Lit on Guy Fawkes Day
I'd jump and bang and generally
Make an nuisance until May.
I wish I were a snowflake
Perfection in my shape
I'd have no twin in all the world
No sibling I could ape
I know a lad named Calculus
Who knows how to integrate
His twin does cube roots in his head
That's how they differ-en-tiate
I have a suit of armor
It clanks like Puffing Billy
Made of chain and plate and scraps,
Don't dare tell me it's silly!
I have a great big knobbly mace
That lives under my pillow
I have it near me just in case
Should my bedroom monster bellow
I wish I were invisible
- A power I'd use for good
But efforts have been risible
I just can't drain myself of blood.
I wish I were knurlèd knob (RW) You from t'north?
Knobkierie or Shillelagh
I like to crush [Rosie]: Nope, I'm an American with a sense of poetic license. Even Shakespeare didn't always "rhyme" in the normals way.
the heads should be added. I'm sorry, I was in limerick mode...
Of those who mess with B Disraeli
yeah ... right, a bit crap, but it seemed a reasonable RHYMING option.:-)
I wish I had a dozen eggs
To chuck at Griff Rhys-Jones (RW) I know you're American - I was being sarcastic, because I'm a nasty old bugger. ;-)
And I'll have to use a dozen eggs [RW]No worries, love. ;) (Just to add to the confusion...)
To throw at them wot moans
I've eaten forty-one mince pies
My tummy don't feel well Just had one myself ;o)
I'll only have a couple more
So then I'll feel like hell
I am the forty-fourth mince pie
Why have I been neglected?
Is it because old Sweeney Todd
And the filler he collected.
There is a place in Missouri Let's see if y'all can follow the mispronounciation on that... Not that it has to be rhymed.
That's famed in rhyme and song
So thanks be to W C Handy . . . the bog's just round the corner . . .
We're bound to get it wrong
Chalky - I wish I'd been to Cambridge
But I was just too thick
So I got stuck at Oxford
And have no sense of poetry now. Yes, for those of you who don't know, that was intentional.
I wish I were a tiddlywink (Red Wolf) You're forgiven - this time. (Chalky) WC Handy wrote St Louis Blues, one of my favourites, but his name still makes me giggle a bit.
All round and red and shiny
Instead I am a poker chip
And doomed to igno-miny
I wish I had an Oscar Mayer
And not this Nathan's wiener
Since I'm a grumpy old tax payer
And Nathan's just makes me meaner...
I wish I was a baker
I'd wear a baker's hat
And eat large sticks of butter
I love imbibing globs of fat
With crown and orb and sceptre
My aim is for to please
And few could be adepter that's a mains adepter, btw
At avoiding all the sleaze
I wish I was a radio
That was tuned in to you
You can twang my aerial
It sure beats Radio 2
If you get poor reception
Try stroking your aerial
It will certainly mess up the scan
And if combined with poor insulation could lead to your premature burial.
I wish I were a bar of soap
Almost a glowing clerihew, that last one. Or perhaps a cleriworm
Fragrant Camay, Pears, or Fairy
My bubbles would caress your skin
And scents send your head airy.
I'm in an awful lather here
I just can't choose between
The liquid or the solid soap
Which will best keep me clean?
I've heard the tales of cooking woes
I've empathised and wept
For oysters, like famed Carpenter
In month's not 'r' except
I'm going to the corner shop
I may be quite a while
The lady at the counter's cute
I'll try my rakish smile
I wish I were an oyster
An aphro-dis-i-ac
I'd make folks feel quite fruity
So they'd end up in the sack
My college class has started
And I am running late
I have no time to eat my lunch
And no time to masturbate coat!
I wish I were an actor (Softers) 15-yr-olds do it in class (so I'm told)
I'd strut upon the stage
There'd be no dry eye in the house
My "Macbeth" would be the rage
I wish I were a guru
My every word you'd heed
I'd tell you to strip naked
To do a Kama Sutra deed
To partake of my wisdom
You must wear this party hat
Your brain will function better
Although you'll look a prat oblig, probably
I am a perfect Bayesian
I am coordinated
And all those silly Frequentists
Can say what they like
When Ike and Tina Turner
River deep-ed and mountain high-ed
They left a good job in the city
But then ol' Ikey died
I'd climb the highest mountain
And forge the wettest stream
Just to get away from you (SM) Did you mean ford?
You're a nightmare not a dream
O poets red in tooth and claw [Rosie] Yes, I was thinking of 'Climb Every Rainbow'
Have no truck with sonnets (SM) Ah! The steep bit near the ground is the worst, always.
It's best to use a car instead
And etch your verse on bonnets [Software] "Can say what they like"? (three poems ago) Am I missing something subtle?
I wish I were a jam jar
Packed with jellied berry filling
Then I'd feel the rock star
Who liked young girls quite willing [Phil] yes
I wish that I were clever
And won a Nobel prize
I'd then become quite famous
And get away with lies. . . . cynical old bugger . . .
I wish I were a liar
Alas, though, I lack guile
But what I miss in cunning
I make up for with pure style
I've only ever once been caught
With my trousers down - J,R,E,C - nice :o)
The trial was held at County Court
With my boxer shorts stained brown
I wish I were a magistrate
A-sending folks to hang
I'd be acting ultra vires
But I just don't give a dang (y'all)
I wish I were immortal [Phil] I'm as confused as you are, btw.
And immoral would help too
I'd sin for all eternity [CdM] Thank god, it's not just me :-)
The bill would ne'er come due.
I wish I was a shuttlecock
Winging back and forth
My feathers start off perky
Then end up pointing north [CdM, Phil] It's me as well :-)
I wish such obfuscation - I've been waiting for ages to post that word
Would be more oft eschewed
For spurious complication
Is moral turpitude. We are the New Puritans. Aaaaaghh!
[C,R,p,R] Excellent. I've said more than once that to be a good citizen in the morniverse, particularly in poetry games, you need to know when not to post. This morning I wrote the line "Well -- I just think it's rude" to finish that last glowworm, but upon previewing I thought, 'well, that's ok, but I bet someone else can do better'. So I deleted my line, and -- sure enough -- Rosie came along with one that was ten times better. Oh, and while I am it, applause also to S,P,R for the immor(t)al one.
(CdM) Thanks for the compliment. Your point is very pertinent. If I can't think of a good one I try not to put anything up. Part of the reason, I have to admit, is that I don't want to put my name to some banality. People will think I'm going soft or have lost it. But really one has to ask oneself "Is this worthy of the Morniverse?" If not, say nowt. Your inspiration will return. This condition can be relaxed to end a poor one has been hanging about for a while.
I wish my knarfled sprugget-flink Yes, but you should have seen the lines I rejected.
Was cruft with sparkly prill
With splinky dik-daks all around
Upon my window sill.
I wish a were a geyser now, now . . .
And not a girly fountain
I'd live in lovely Yellowstone
And squirt at Saddle Mountain
When continents are drifting
Pangaea's split apart
Gondwanaland's a-forming
And India gets its start
I wish I knew the answer
I haven't got a clue
Don't understand the question
Besides, I'm pissed. What's new?
I've changed my online atavar
The new one's so much cuter [ITYM "avatar" ;-)]
I like to watch her in the nude
By hacking her computer
I wish I was a chocolate bar
Instead I'm just a flake
But just like British chocolate I have an ending in mind, I wonder if others do?
I leave Hershey's in my wake [Soft] was that it?
I wish I were an ombudsman
I would investigate
Nefariousness in all its forms
The piss I would not take [Phil] Not quite - "I'm just a bloody fake" was my idea.
i wish my work was finished
And I could go straight home
But maybe I'd swing by the pub
"I can't resist." (Georg Ohm)
Banality in all its forms
Is found on MC here
In fact it is one of our norms
No deep thoughts shall appear.
(A hymn to be sung to the tune of "All Things Bright and Beautiful".)
If any intellectual
Attempts to prove us wrong
She or he'll be pilloried
In poetry and song. Fat chance
A cross-eyed bear called Gladley
Met a cock-eyed bear called Bill
The pair devoured a wall-eyed pike
Strabismus wins two-nil.
I wish I were a dashing spy
Dashing from Prague to Rome
With pistol, gloves and killer shades
And camera in my comb

Perhaps this deserves several verses ..

I'd have no need for mundane things
I'd love my Austin Martin
Its blazing guns would clear the road
And leave the baddies smartin'


My basic needs would be supplied - usa
(Women, wine, and poker chips)
My cool, suave charm would be applied
To Octopussy's swaying hips.
Nasty villains I'd track down
Mmmmm - try that with more space

Software - Nasty villains I'd track down

Blow up their secret hideaways
they'd stroke their cats to no avail
Their henchmen turned to runaways. oish

On service to Her Majesty

My license is to kill
With ricin or with bullets' aim
Either way it's brill.

I'm on the SMERSH most-wanted list
But do not care a jot
I'm women-and-martini-pissed
My suave is all to pot


Most of all, I'm just so cool
My machismo knows no bounds
But that's my dream. In real life
I'm a milkman on my rounds Well, that was fun while it lasted :o)
I wish I were a painter
My house I'd decorate
I'd paint it in pink candystripes
and sell it to the Tate
I wish I were decisive. That spy series wasn't bad at all. A bit of polishing and it would be reminiscent of Milligan.
Or do I? I'm not sure
But then, on the other hand
I like to dither more
I wish I could remember
Whatever I forgot
But did I forget anything?
My memory says not
I wish I could stop dreaming
and rouse myself from sleep
But the arms of Morpheus
Are lovely, long and deep
Oi! You nicked my bicycle!
How can I get home?
The bus is gone I've got no dosh
So Oi'll polish off me pome
I wish I were a test pilot
In stratospheric realms
Mach IV would seem slow to me
Until I hit those elms.
I wish my sinuses would drain [Rosie] marvellous finish!
Then I could hum fine tunes
But sadly I just suffer Which I do, actually :o(
Most Aprils, Mays and Junes. (blamelewis) Cheers. I was inspired by the thought of a mate who flies a Tiger Moth. Top speed 80 mph and it can just about clear the trees.
I wish I was a tiger moth
I'd aim to clear the trees
With wooden prop and wings of cloth
Being careful not to sneeze.
I wish I was a cauliflower
With fractal-like florets
But please don't overcook me (Raak) Yeah, all right, :-)
Else I'll get the sweats
I swoop above the cabbage fields
To look for Peter Rabbit
Airborne death falls from the sky
The vultures dive and grab it.
I wish I was a Brussels sprout veg cascade!
Fresh-steamed and dipped in butter
Best Brassica that ever was
"I hate you!" children mutter
I wish I were a curtain (Softers) About right. :-)
Upon a Broadway stage
I'd be raised revealing stars
From Vaudeville's golden age
A second use for cabbages
Which very few folks know
Is in machines of Babbage's
To smooth the data-flow.
Excellent stuff. Bravo those people
I wish I were a Pearly King Here Here!
A cockney through-and-through
Robed in gaudy sequinned bling
And act 'oity-toity too
I wish I were a Weetabix
Or two - they're best in pairs
But quick, I go all soggy
If with liquid one prepares
I wish I was a Metro train
My headlights incandescent
'Neath the streets I would wind
In ecstasy transcendent.
A duck is sleeping on the tracks
Its head beneath its wing
It doesn't hear the closing train
Now it's dead, poor thing re last one: I would have thought someone would have spotted something like - "N'ere stopping at the 'Crescent" but there you go.
We're stopping at the "Crescent"
Let's all get out and look
This station looks quite pleasant
Aye, fancy, in't it, chuck?
A smart and well-kept station
Is wond'rous to behold
It fills me with elation
And makes me brave and bold.
I wish I worked for TfL
They're full of japes and stunts
When storms blow leaves across the lines
I think "Those useless people."
I wish I didn't have thith lithp
'Cos really I'm dead hard
I'll thmack the thod what takth the pith
Or callth me a wetard ...and fair enough...
I'd like to spend my life at sea
A-seeking grog and plunder
And have a girl in every port
Who's willing to go under Yeah, mine's hanging in the hall, thanks.
I wish I'd been a Chippendale
In lycra posing thong
However, I am but a weed
And won't reveal my dong
I wish I were a checkout clerk
With barcode-reader thing
I'd wear my name-badge upside-down [Soft/Raak/Rosie/blame] Genuinely laughed out loud.
Of Tesco I am King.
Outside the supermarket
Beside the bottle bank
I'll take myself in hand right now
There's only me to thank aha!
It doesn't take a lot to find - [pen] tee hee
You've nothing in your purse [pen] :0)
So stick it on the credit card [pen] thank you
And let the debt get worse aka Patience Strong.. Would someone give me a break from moralising last lines please?!
I count my money every day
It takes me all the morning
Whoever said that crime don't pay?
They've not read the safety warning to put this one to bed
I like to dress in orange garb
and paint my buttocks blue
Then storm the pitch at Boundary Park
And entertain the few.
I smeared my shins with marmalade
Said Paddington one day.
Mr Gruber frowned and shook his head
"Sticky little bears can't play." ...there.
I wish I could be somewhere else
And even then, not there
Where'er it is I seem to go
I'd rather be elsewhere.
I've just come back from nowhere
Or Redditch, as it's called
Up there they talk quite funny
As they think "called" rhymes with "carpet". Eh?
I wish I had a time machine
Like that I once had soon
This time I'll read the user guide
No matter how jejune
I wish I were a molecule (Phil) V good!
Of purest anthracite [Rosie] I used to have a chemistry teacher who pronounced it "mow-lay-queue-all",
I'd rule a landscape miniscule
With my atoms all packed tight
If I had much more money
I'd buy myself some friends
I'd bask in sycophantic praise
In my Mercedes-Benz
April makes me happy
September makes me sad
April is quite crappy [Rosie] Ta! [Quendalon] Minuscule is the correct, if widely unknown, spelling
But September is rad! bipolar? [Phil] Even I've fallen for that one... classic Graeme Garden new definition for it though =)
I wish I was the Taj Mahal
All marble pure and white
Best Asian grub in Colliers Wood
It hits the spot just right [Phil] You are correct! I'm so embarrassed. I feel small -- nay, minuscule. :-)
I wish to find Nirvana
Or any sort of grunge
Maybe AC/DC
Or Napalm Black Death Gunge.
I'm off to visit Shangri-La
And learn the secret truth
Of jet lag, crap food, cancelled flights
LHR T5 forsooth!
I've been around the world again
But when I got back home
My bags were still in Cairo
My underwear in Rome
I'm glad I'm not a terminal
With baggage all astray
And I'm glad I'm not an airline
In terminal disarray
I wish I was a marmoset
In marmalade or jam
'Cos I am a real sweet tooth
Don't like green eggs and ham.
I wish I had some oobleck
To spread upon my toast
To eat with my Green Eggs and Ham
While I'm reading next door's post
I wish I manned a tower crane
Armed with a wrecking ball
I'd be every building's bane
In Telford, first of all. Pandering to popular taste, though Swindon, Basingstoke and Crawley would have done.
A nuclear bomb and Bracknell
Go like toast and jam
This should be known more widely (SM) I used to work there (Met Office) 1964-66. A soulless dump even then.
So I'll set up Auto Spam - which gets rid of that one - phew
I have a proposition
To end this sentence with
That's such a supposition
From mister Simons Mith Oblig.
I wish I were a lumberjack
Hanging round a bar
I'd wear long frilly dresses
Just like my dear mama - oblig.
A fact that few consider
Regarding soccer moms
Is that their little poppets
To matches carry bombs
Rule one is that Thou Shall Wear Socks
Rule two is to not catch the Pox
Ah, this is a limerick, yes?
I wish that I were hosiery
Wrapped 'round a woman's thighs
Instead (here's full disclosury)
I just dreams and sighs
I wish I were a proper noun
And not a proper twit
I wouldn't mislead my online friends
By pretending I'm a wit
I wish I were a raspberry [Softers] Precisely the line I nearly put in yesterday!
Blown in your direction
Then I would really signify
Contempt for your complexion
Spare the rod and spoil the child
So whack him with a kipper
The little sod has run quite wild
Who'd ever have a nipper?
I wish I were a bumblebee
I'd bumble hither-thither
Up to the point when you might say - go on - swear out loud. You know you want to.
Fuck it, then. Why dither? (Chalks) Oh, I do, but actual invitations are scarce.
I wish I was a potted plant
A fern or aspidistra
I'd live in conservatory
De-dum te-tum de-dah -life's too short to faff around with impossible rhymes and nonsensical third lines :-)
I wish I had more patience
With Software's last third line
I wish I'd thought before I wrote My fault - I must have had a brain fart
Contrition, thus, is mine. (pen) Which orifice is involved in these eruptions?
I wish I owned a parrot
I wish I owned a parrot [pen] confession is good for the soul ;o) + More brain farting!
Oh I wish I owned a parrot
But I don't.
I've thought a lot about this line
Perhaps I've over-thought
But when I think about my thoughts
I get really overwrought
I wish I were a beer mat
For real ale not for lager
Anything that I soaked up
Would serve to end this saga (mercy killing)
I wish I were a Riesling
Or maybe a Gewurz
Instead I'm just a pale Soave
Life's so unfair, it hurts
I wish I was a mezcal worm
Condensing boozy vapours
In stasis there I would remain
A source of mental capers
I would I were a pint of ale
As clear as amber dew
I'd sit upon my beermat
Anticipating you
As swift as Summer Lightning
Your cooking passed through me
The thunder rumbles on, though
As does the smell of brie
I wish I were an antelope
An ungulate or deer
I'd skip across the grassy plains Do I sound like a lumberjack? Hello, Darren. Where have you been, then?
And wonder why I'm here
I like to play upon my oud
Or my didgeridoo
But as for my soprano sax
it always leaves me blue
I wish I were a tangerine
I really don't know why
They say I'm prone to whimsy
My head floats in the sky
I wish I were a dicky-bird
A-sitting on the fence
I'd then uncover what occurred
If I were not so dense
To wait and watch and listen
While drinking whisky sours
Is, I think, a great fun way
To while away these hours
To fart and belch and chunder
Is what every Aussie loves
So is it any wonder
They don't quite sound like doves. v few rhymes
I wish I was the Ace of Spades
So black and curved, yet pointed
We aces all are renegades
When trumped we're disappointed.
I wish I were a saxophone
All levers, pads and keys
I'd be blown and fondled
Is no-one going to finish this bugger? It's not that difficult, surely, and it has stood here for 4 days.
Right between the knees
For hours I stood and waited
For any sign of you
I sighed and contemplated
Stalking someone new.
I wish I were a chainsaw (Quen) That's the 'cello, surely. :-)
I'd really get a buzz
From taking part in massacres
And perplexing Texas fuzz
I wish I were a plank of wood
With no termites around
By carpenters I would be nailed
By creosote be browned.
I booked a flight to Katmandu - Last three - neat :-)
It seemed a good idea
I then went on to Timbuktu
Tomorrow, Llwynypia. It rhymes, it scans. Look it up. Mwa-ha-ha-ha!
I traveled to the Isle of Man
(The third leg of my trip)
I spent three days in fun Milan
Some tw*t put me in knip - I dunno - I'd barely uttered the word scaloppini... and there he was, brandishing his Mario Batali Oil Drizzler ...
Begone, vile knippieri! (Phil) V good
You've blighted my whole game [irach] Very nice Texas line above, especially the internal "x" repeat
(My mother said: Be wary
If Maelberg's and Beck's are the same)
This isn't quite a poem
Although it rhymes and scans
The words just come a flowin'
And look best in Gill Sans.
I wish I were a sonnet
That perched upon a tree
But then would someone read me?
Yes, arborists certainly
O! if I were a petal
And you a honeybee
I'd love your sweet antenna tickle
As you crawl over me
All things that squirm and wriggle
Are a delight to me
Ooh, how I love those maggots
How they enhance a brie!
I wish I were a paper bag [Rosie] Deft!
For airsickness on a plane
I'd catch all those nasty bits
Your loss - recycling's gain. (Tuj) Cheers.
To loop the loop is my delight
All on a springtime morn - [Rosers] neat finishing on last two
When up is down and down is up
Invertedly airborne
It started in the treehouse
It continued in the shed
It traumatised my wee mouse
Which came into my bed.
I wish I were a critic
Of literary works
I just love lambasting authors
Solipsistic berks!
I swung my axe with gusto
I chopped something in half
I put the vid on YouTube
Please add an epitaph.
Three cheers for "last line" Rosie
He's really on a roll
No matter what our prose be,
With Rosie, it's not droll
I really am most flattered . . . no last line this time . . .
And so you should be, chum!
Because you have a way with words
Stand up to roll of drum!
In spite of all the plaudits
Pride's a Deadly Sin
Some rank it first of seven
But I think Sloth should win
[Simons] I was going to post that line. But then I couldn't be bothered.
I wish I were a sinner
Evil of intent
I'd take my cues from Lucifer
On chaos I'm hell-bent!
A-sitting cross-legged on a cloud
Reciting a Lim'rick out loud [SM] Are you in the right room?
With my head lowly bowed go with the flow
(I've no right to be proud)
I wonder if this is allowed
I'm glad I'm back to normal
Whatever 'normal' is
It's less than semi-formal
Just not quite the biz
I'm glad I've regained consciousness
I thought I'd be dead forever
But how shall I escape this box?
That's my next endeavour.
I'm taking half of your estate
I think it's rightly mine
Since I am your conjoined twin
Sign on the dotted line
As I awoke this morning
My little dream was scotched
I knew I'd made a boo-boo
'Cause my tartan sheets were blotched - I'll get my jacket then ..
I wish I were a referee
'Cause I look good in black
And what's more I'm a bastard
And common sense I lack
[Rosie] I remember once seeing some "humorous" foreign language translations in preparation for a big football tournament - Italia 90 World Cup maybe. The one I always recall is "Bastardo" = Referee. Still makes me chuckle.
I wish i was caddis fly
Skimming o'er the water (Bigsmith) The thing is "Bastardo" is actually an Italian town and surname.
I'd keep and eye out for the trout
And the salmon's hungry daughter
I wish I were a paperclip
I'd straddle many pages
And though I am dispensable
I pay my maker's wages
I wish I was a stocking top I have a precise idea where this one might go, but I wonder if anyone else gets it?
Encircling a fine leg [pen] This may be off your female beam, given my gender
Mmm, cricketers in lingerie
In mid-slip, for which I beg
It really wasn't cricket
But more like table tennis
My stocking tops went off the boil
as Nancy said to Svennis It's the tatty denim jacket...
A Viking who ate much salt cod
[irach] is your mind really on this?
let's try a revamp:

I wish I'd been a Viking

Intent on rape and pliiage
Because I have a liking (Assuming it's 'pillage' not 'pliiage') please, go ahead...
To escape this tiny village.
I'd love to be a warrior
I'd warry and I'd warry
But dressed in all this armour
I'd not get quizzed by MORI. Non sequiturs - c'est moi.
"Morituri te salutant"
Was once to Caesar said
So then he went and conquered
Who said that Latin's dead?
Sorry if you all know this one, but, back in the mid-seventies two years' study of Latin was still compulsory at my school. Handwritten in the front of my (very old and much used) textbook was this wonderful little ditty: "Latin is a language, As dead as dead can be, First it killed the Romans, And now it's killing me...."
I wish I'd been a Roman Last one v good
And lived the Roman ways
I'd doff my toga in the baths
With all the other straight people moving right along...
Latin is a language
With endings and declensions
It's quite the grammar sandwich
With classical pretensions
How fond I am of Kipling
Of Kim and Gunga Din
Of verandah-settled tippling
Small tonic, lots of gin.
I wish I'd lived in days of Raj
With my hookah and my bhisti
A most impressive entourage
Quite unlike E L Wisty.
I want to turn the decades back
And have my time again
Well, maybe not the early days
'cause teething was a pain
I wish I could remember
Why I came upstairs
But I'm sure that it will come to me
Perhaps I'm hiding from the Blairs?
a merciful end...
I wish I was a dentist's drill
A-grinding at your teeth
I'd snigger as I hit a nerve
And the touchy stuff beneath. (Softers) You BASTARD :-)
I wish I was an albatross
A soaring o'er the briny
I'd check out female Albatrii I know...
E'en though my willy's tiny. (Botherer) That's all right then. :-)
I wish I were an eagle
Perched on my cliffside aerie
Bunny rabbits, watch your back
I feel a little queerie
I would I were a hummingbird
Sipping nectar dawn to dusk
I'd beat my wings so very fast
I'd not have time to busk There, that's that then
I wish I were Geordie (Softers) Well done. I found that one impossible.
I'd call everybody man
I'd preface statements with "Why aye"
And shirtless try to tan (Rosie) busk and musk were the only words I could think of so was hinting at working up a sweat...
I'd love to sip some Earl Grey tea
With rusk and homemAde scones
I'd feel so very dignified
Talking in snobbish tones that's how I pronounces it
I wish I were a white van man
Foot hard on the floor
I'd rob the middle classes blind
And undercharge the poor Poetic licence invoked
I wish I was the Moomintroll
But why I just don't know
Perhaps it is the Snork Maiden
Her norks are rather droll
I paint my feet with mayonnaise
And stand on Regent Street
But only on those sunny days
When rats deserve a treat
In Noorvik lives a noble moose
The monarch of the tundra
He grazes lichen all the day
And fresh leaves by the hundre(d)
That's a point on your poetic license, Mr Raak. We'll be watching you.
The oboe is a woodwind
And has a double reed
The clarinet has only one
Which quite fulfils it's need
Oh, please, lend 'us a tenner
I'm short of a few bob [Kim] scan a bit sus, there, mate :o)
A fiver simply will not do
'Cos I'm a boozy slob.
[Softers] Oh, please, lend 'us a tenner - 's wrong wi' that?
[Kim] Sounds a bit limerickish to me.

Anyway:
I wish I were a bookie

I'd make more dough than bakers
So get my share of nooky
With the movers and the shakers
I have a niece called Sunny
By name and nature too
She wants to join the Moonies now
The silly little moo
Curses! Simulposted and with a very similar line.
I like my Brie all runny
Disgusting though it looks
As long as it's not furry
Then I'd throw it at the rooks
I wish I was a Bo Peep sheep
All lost and undiscovered
But my mistress for me would go seek
She really would be bovvered
I wish I were a conker
And be the conkering hero
But 'gainst the oven-hardened champ
My chances approach zero
I wish I were a-sunbathing
A-naked on my porch
Scandalising passers-by
Who giggle while I scorch
I wish I were the gas-man
I'd cut off your supply
And that would be a gas, man
Because I'd make you cry.
Step on the gas man!
I'm flying down to Rio
Sugarloaf Mountain beckons
My jouney is con brio
Or so the Missus reckons...
I wish I were a real cool cat
And stunningly good-looking
Dick Whittington would disown his
And I would get his booking
I wish I were a High Court judge
Doling justice from the bench
I wish they'd bring back hanging
That'd make the buggers blench!
I wish that Keira Knightley's toes
Were hairy, just like mine
Instead they're varnished in bright hues
But I only counted nine
I wish I were an athlete
With awesome washboard abs
Enhanced by ev'ry drug there is
Including androgenic mAbs (monoclonal antibodies, that is...)
I wish I was in Heckmondwyke
I tire of Cleckheaton
My head is all messed up and like
A carpet, beaten. In another life I used to deal with a computer company based in Heckmondwyke
I wish my elephant would tread
A little more discretely
But when I tell him, "Whoa, Fred!"
He loses it completely.
My love is like a red, red rose
That's been decapitated
By someone who sadly knows
Bugger, something fouled up - it should read:

How much its overrated

What the f...

I wish that I could turn back

And not screw up this time
Were there but a BUTTON I could press
I could go back and have a second attempt at making this line scan as well as rhyme
I wish I were a satnav
That told you where to go
Then I would tell you to sod off
Sounding like Seb Coe onwards...
I wish I was a dwarf star
In a fairground freaky show
I'd shave the bearded lady
Which part you'll never know.
I wish i was a Punk Rocker
With acne, grease and bile
My ears all full of safety pins,
My vocabulary vile
I wish I were an aerial
A Yagi not a dish
Grabbing waves ethereal Why has this sat here for a week? It's not difficult.
Is that too much to wish?
I'm glad I'm not a poofter
Or a drag queen with a pouf
And though I'm homophobic
I like a bit of rouf.
A ladder in my stockings
A stairway to your dreams?
Held up by suspenders
And other fiendish schemes.
I wish that colonoscopies
Were broadcast on the telly
Just the place for yet more crap
To turn our brains to jelly
[i,p,R,S] V. Good
I wish I'd done some thinking
Before I chose to speak
So now my foot is in my mouth
It's been there all the week.
I wish I was an alpaca
Instead of being a llama
But then again a camel
Is one to cause a drama
I wish I were a farmer
With fields all bare and ploughed
I'd grow my hops and barley
No trespassers allowed
Alas, the fields are flooded
So let us all grow rice
Now, now, please don't have a paddy
Paddy leeches aren't nice
I wish I were a boxer
Rather than a scotty
Or even a dalmatian in a desperate bid to get this moving again
Costing fifty zloty. Crap, but it'll do. (CdM) Well done. No-one's fault really.
[Rosie] I was expecting "dotty" :-)
I wish I had the foresight
To know what banks to short
Then I'd make a killing [Rosie] I thought that I'd primed it for the last line to be something like "Cos my nose is snotty" but there you go ...
If I'd sold what I bought sorry for the doublepost, but it just seemed right
I wish I was a chimpanzee
Tossing off with vigour
I'd stare at you from in my cage
(For chimps that's so de rigueur)
I do so wish I could speak French
The language of romance
Much better than the Double Dutch
"Take off der pants, der pants!"
O! Would I were a poet!
My verse, it would astound
And what it lacked in scan and rhyme
I'd make up with sheer sound.
I wish I were a sculptor
Wrestling with wet clay
Trying to create beauty
In a Venus de Milo way
I wish I was a frisbee
Spinning through the air
I'd land in someone's picnic
With buoyant savoir faire
I like my steak done meejum rare
Blood-stained, not dripping red
Served up with crispy onion rings
And crusty, warm French bread *rumbles*
I wish I were a salmon [Pen] Nicely topped and tailed
Swimming to my spawning ground
And though I'm going 'gainst the flow
My methodology is sound I wonder why some "stick"?
I wish I were a stick insect [Software] I think it has to do with the movement of the stick market
Just like Peter Crouch
I'd stick one in the Kazakh's goal
I really am no slouch
I wish I were a Two-toe'd Sloth
I just hate having five
I'd spend each day just hanging on
To prove that I'm alive.
When I switched on my telly
The news was far from good
I've lost a lot of money
So let's play Robin Hood.
When I switched on the wireless
To hear Evan Davis drawl
I sat and quietly panicked
It made my skin just crawl
I wish I were an ingot
Locked up in Fort Knox
Safely away from mayhem
In Uncle Sam's steel box
It's not the way I planned it
It's not like it should be
Alas, it's all gone pear-shaped
But it suits me to a tee
I wish I was a chimney sweep
Just like Dick Van Dyke
I'd stick my brush right up your flue
And shake it, if you like. My coat? How kind......
I wish I were Italian
Ruthlessness plus charm
I'd cruise Roma on Lambrettas
A compare on my arm Compare n. crony, close pal, buddy. Literally, "godfather" in Italian.
I wish I were a compère Compère n. master of ceremonies. From old French, meaning "godfather".
Oozing wit and charm
I'd denigrate the other acts
And call Queen Lizzie "Marm"
I wish I were a Comice Pear
A female shape for sure
Narrow here and wider there
Luscious, juicy, phwooar! Er, sorry. Saw a copy of The Sun in the Co-op.
I wish that baleen whales had teeth
(irach) Have you started a limerick?
(Rosie) No. It's exactly the same format as earlier one in syllables and scan...)
And roamed upon the land
But wouldn't want to stand beneath
As they walk down the Strand
[i,R,p,S] Lovely. Qualities of Lewis Carrol about it.
I wish I were a vendor
Of pies and potted meat
And with the cash you tender
My bookie I would meet
I wish I knew exactly
How I would react
But I am so uncertain
So that wish I'll retract
I wish I were a bishop
With mitre, cope, and crook
I'd stand out on a chessboard
From queen and knight and rook
I wish I were the President
I'd set the whole world right
From my perspective, obviously,
I'd be neck-deep in the shite
I wish I were a cheeseboard
That smelt like gorgonzola
An aroma sooo Italian
Like Monza and Imola Har har
I wish I was in Magny Cours
In a Citron set to go
My lemon-powered vehicle
More juiced than a Poiregeot
I drive a Massey Ferguson
A farmer's boy I am
It is a strange attractor
To every little lamb
I wish I were a tube of glue
I would be stuck on you
In fact I am quite super
and sticking's what I do
I wish I had a bus pass
Alas, I'm far too young Hur, hur, hur...
But never mind, I can wait
Until I am well-hung Yes, coat please....
These days there's no denying
That we eat far too much Still haven't finished me birfdy choccies.
So let's all check our diets
With low-fat meals and such
I wish I could be Santa
If only for a day
Let's say the 25th of June
Or else the 4th of May
Genius...
I wish I could write poems
Of elegance and style
That touched the reader's very soul
And left them with a smile.
I must not be unwary
Of opportunitee
So when the chance arises
I grab it all for MEE!
I wish I were a hosepipe
Connected to a tap
Instead I'm just a drainpipe
I'm really rather crap
I think my phone is dying
Its number has come up
I'm ringing for a doctor
But he can't think of a suitable rhyme for 'up'. Mercy killing
I really wish that Camembert
Did not smell quite so strong
I'd like to gobble down a pound
Despite the awful pong. oblig.
I wish that influenza ack ack
With whisky could be cured [Pen] Get well soon.
But this, I fear, is fanciful
But drink it if your bored. Get well soon, pen.
I wish that pen feels better
Than pencil in my hand What?!?
Abhor all things hexagonal
We live in circle land
I wish I were a hedgehog
Scuttling 'cross the road
I'd swerve between the traffic
Till permanently slowed
I wish I was a kerb stone
I just love to be stepped on
And scraped by fancy wheel-rims
And occasionally slept on
I wish I were a conductor (CdM) Nice one.
Feeding voltage to a train
Trundling up the District Line
My job's a shocking pain
I wish I were a Christmas card [pen] I was half expecting the rather more prosaic "and trundling down again."
Sold for charitee
For orphans or for UNICEF
With love for you from mee
I wish I was a Dundee cake
A-fill with fruitiness
Scoffed in no time - yum yum yum
Then thrown up - what a mess
Each day I feed my pussy cat
It grows a little fatter
And when I think it's grown enough
I'll fry it in some batter
I wish I were a lighthouse (Darren) You BASTARD!. Welcome back, BTW.
Standing firmly on a rock
So everyone who saw me [Rosie] Thanks!
Could sail in and safely dock
It seems the harbour's frozen up
And though it looks quite nice. easyfeeds r us
I think there'll be some fun and games
if someone has the dice
I wish I were a slithy tove
A-gimbling in the wabe
I'd stick one to a borogove
Then frabjously outgrabe
I wish I were on the Ning Nang Nong
Where the teapots jibber joo
My flannel's got a funny pong
Was that from washing you?
I wish I were a domino
Then all these spots I've got
Would mean more than just acne
They'd be right on the dot
My life is like a pack of cards
And fate is playing poker
I've only got a pair of eights
And Mr Soot the Stoker
I wish I were a roulette wheel
I'd take you for a spin
And if you said "Rien ne va plus!"
I'd still ask for your PIN.
And now alas, I'm stony broke
I've frittered all my cash
On booze and birds and lines of coke
Hidden textRude alternative:-On booze and birds I didn't poke.
You pay the bill - must dash!
I wish that Amy Winehouse would
Put on a paper bag
She really is an ugly, skinny,
Tone deaf, pissed up hag.
Findus fish fingers are no more Some spiffing ones in the last week, well done!
The Firm's be frozen out; iCPB - excellent
Captain Birds Eye rules the roost
Such gastronomic clout.
I wish my unicycle had
An extra wheel or two
For I'd prefer to bi- or tri-
-cycle along with you.
To drive an eighteen wheeler
Needs a beefy set of pecs
Unless there's power steering
Or warp drive (like Star Trek's)
I wish I were made of perspex
I just love acrylic glass
Every part of me'd be see-through
But not my clothes, alas.
I've just received a box of cheese
Tilsit and Bel Paese
My cheesy habit they will foster
Replacing Brie and Double Gloucester Don't get me started on cheese...
I wish the folks of Limpopo
Would choose a better name
And Peneloopij's scansion
Is OK. What a dame!
I wish I were a hedgehog
Curled up into a ball
A compact spiky little sphere
Impeneteraball. ....apologies....
I wish I were elastic
Your highly flexing friend
Our friendship is fantastic
But plastic in the end
[K, S, p (me), J] That one is exciting and sad at the same time.
I wish I were a Velcro strip
I'd stick where I'm not wanted
And when you ripped my sides apart
I'd be non-orthodonted. ....difficult....
I swim beside my manatee
She's such a gentle soul
Without a trace of vanity
We queue up for the dole
I wish I were a High Court Judge
I like to dress in wigs
With toupée tape they shouldn't budge
On my Old Bailey gigs
I wish I were a magistrate Continuing the legal theme
Sitting on the Bench
Dispensing justice all day long BTW; we had magistrate twice before
To every wanton wench
At last I've found my one true love
I found her in a cave
She dropped upon me from above
… It's been a splendid rave!
I wish I were a botanist
Researching Cannabis
I'd take samples home with me
And hallucinate in bliss
I wish I were the very last
On which my shoes were made
A boot I'd seek, a sole-searching soul
One that could be laid. coat!
I wish I wasn't left-hand-drive gah, I'm struggling with it - and often set off on the wrong side of the road, despite a new easy-to-drive car and a helpful sticker on the windscreen.
It's clearly just now right;
now = not :o(
I can't change gear with my right hand
Not since I had the fight moicy
For fifty miles I chased the Stig
In my Cooper S
But just as he was in my sights
I span off - what a mess.
They once put Clarkson in a tank
Of boiling caustic soda ...dream on...
But the b*stard's really so thick skinned
We wait to write his coda
I wish an anaconda could
Wear a feather boa
On the catwalk it would slither
With aplomb but ever slower
The mamba is a placid soul
(Invoking the Nash convention. Ogden Nash, that is.)
Whose gentle toxic bite
Will send you into ga-ga land
See one and take fright.
I wish I were in Kathmandu
Chug-a-lugging Gorkha beer
Climb a mountain? - no can do
I think I'll stay right here
When I once rode through Peckham
As a Spice Girls groupie
I thought that David Beckham
Was local slang for loopy.
I wish I were a pelican
A crossing's what I'd be
Not Zebra or pedestrian
Or Julia Roberts' brief for me
My y-fronts are the stretchy ones
Because I'm big down there
My feet are almost size eighteen Chalky - back on form, missus?!!
But them - my wife don't care
The hippo favours boxer shorts
So warm savannah breezes (unfinished sentence alert)
May aerate sundry nether parts
Which cures all known diseases.
The alligator's cheerful grin
Belies its fearsome chomp
Therefore, don't put fingers in
Unless that is your wont Making the best of irach's challenging rhyme
I wish I could have easy rhymes [Software]...how about "swamp...or stomp... or romp... or pomp"?
Like "me", "my", or "nasturtium"
And not have "alcohol" or "Thirsk"
Or Moses' firstborn, Gershom.
(Raak) .....who played in goal for Walton and Hersham. Good on crosses.
[irach] tried them, couldn't make 'em work
I love a well-constructed ark
And animals in pairs
With several decks to spread the load
And on the top, deckchairs.
Hidden textAnd underneath, a line.
I wish I were a blowlamp
I love the smell of burning paint
My blow job will impress you
And leave you feeling faint
Such fun to be a hippo!
And wallow in the mud!
The best thing about wallowing:
It's not something I should.
I wish for not a single thing
I'm rich and have it all
The cash, the cars, the yacht, the bling
Yes, I'm a Barbie doll!
My orca thinks a goldfish bowl
Is comfy, warm and snug
This bowl, of course, is very large
I cross it in a tug
I wish I'd been King Henry Eight
And ruled o'er all the land
My carnal appetite I'd sate
On Kates and Annes at hand
I wish I was a rolling stone
That could gather up Kate Moss
I'd be a model rock star
And use her just to floss
When a stone has finished rolling
It'll be o'er the hill
And all the moss it's gathered
Will be there still.
I wish the Pussycat and Owl
Would cease their constant rowing
They've got an outboard motor now
And really should get going
I had a little problem (i,K,SM,p - bravo)
Nothing would it ease
I had lots of honey
But still I lost my peas how satisfying
I had a little brainwave
'Twas no brain tsunami
The idea just came into my head
To join the Belgian army
I haven't got an earthly chance
Of shagging Hazel Blears
The thought of that just makes me weep
With joyful, happy tears
I wish a Snark (Boojum, or not)
Was not so hard to catch
So maybe I'll just not bother
As I think I've met my match
Lonely Grinch Would Like To Meet
A Who like Cindy Lou
For friendship, fun and maybe more
But anything will do
[Software] Excellent finish
En route from Clapham Junction
To Sunningdale, via Staines
A bloody signal failure
Oh, damn these BritRail trains!
I wish I were a satnav (irach) BR (British Rail) is no more. Privatised in 1994. Don't get me going. :-)
I'd tell you where to go
Turn left along this footpath
And then get out and row.
I wish I had a second home
Be it igloo or a yurt [Rosie]Forgive me my trespass. But then what do us Yanks know of things British such as bowlers, stumps and fish and chips, or haggises and kings? Maybe Brit Rail got privatised just because of those bloody signal failures pre-dating 1994 ;)
I'd furnish it from MFI (irach) Yep, private firms make lots of money installing dodgy signals and other private firms make equally large amounts repairing them. Sole purpose of the exercise.
And carpet it with dirt
Dorothy Parker -

I wish I could drink like a lady
I can take one or two at the most
Three and I'm under the table
Four and I'm under the host

I wish I were a spittoon
In which men expectorate
Though now, upon reflection
I should learn to delegate.
I wish Alfredo Garcia's head
Was brought today to me
On second thoughts instead
Invite him round for tea
I wish I were a biscuit
Dunked in a cuppa tea
I'd go from crisp to soggy
Before you count to three
I wish I were a talent scout
With power to recommend
For then you'd let me scout you out
To star in the West End
I stand at the end of the pier
Whoops, I may have limericked by mistake. Sorry.
[SM] Can be remedied....I wish I stood at pier's end
Playing the slot machines Fits either
I'd surely win the jackpot
And stuff it in my jeans
Whisht! I hear a whirring
The clock's about to chime
It's measure is unerring
Big Ben meets the test of time
Shall we have another?
The evening is young
Itsh jusht my fourth martini
And my wife has not yet rung
I wish I were a cactus
Then prickly I would be
I think a xerophytic life
Is just the life for me.
As I sit here slowly melting
Like a warming slab of butter
I long for rainstorms pelting
I'll go lie out in the gutter
I wish I had a magic lamp
The kind that I could rub
I'd conjure up a genie
or a lovely plate of grub
At last the clouds have shed their load
And all beneath is dripping.
How good it is to be a toad
Through puddles gently skipping
I wish I were a spin doctor
I'd fix your gyroscope
And with my centripetal force
It would then work, I'd hope
I wish I were pigeon
For even when I roam
I'd always find my way back to
The place that I call home. That would do very well spread over four illustrated pages in a book for small children.
[Raak] I'm onto it.
I wish my cluttered home-sweet-home
Could be defraged like a disk
I'd contemplate space, light, and air
But this involves some risk.
I work as an inspector
My beady eye sees all
If just one hair is out of place
I'll snood you- one and all
I wish I were a bishop
Complete with bishopric
I'd show it off to all the crowds
Even though I look a pr*ck
My plan has just revealed its flaw
Thwarting vic-tor-ee
It seems there is no winning move
Or derring-do by me
The winter wind is howling
On this summer's day
So much for Global Warming oblig.
It's gone the other way If only to move on...
I wish I were penelope
Squelching through the polder
Alas I think I'm Tuj or Raak This is just weird
E'en Rosie would be bolder
I wish I were a pirate They're so bold...
With eyepatch and a stump
I'd sail the seven seas for loot
And I'd always be a grump
I'd trade all my possessions
For just one night with you
I'd hang on to the condoms, though
I can only sup-port two.
I wish I only worked part-time I do...
Just 40 hours or so
I'd work them all contiguously
At a street pub in Warsaw
If I were on Big Brother never watch it, actually
Then, just to cause a scandal
I'd walk up to the cameraman
While naked, bar one sandal.
I wish I were an elephant
As big as big can be
And white would also be quite nice
But grey's OK by me
I want to spray my turtle with
A really good strong lacquer
So when I take it out to play   Is "turtle" a euphemism for something?
I'm Tito, he's maraca Tito Puente and I'd need another half for a complete set of maracas, obviously...
I wish my pet piranhas would
Learn some table manners
It never uses knife or fork
When eating their bananners Mercy killing
My pets were forty stripy snails
Who left trails of oozy slime
And so I say when all else fails
That oozy slime's sublime
It's small and green and scratchy
But it's also pretty cute
And when it snuggles up to me
It's not so hard to shoot
I wish I were an astronaut
Hurtling through the void
I'd fix Space Stations' toilet bowls
And ease my haemorrhoid
We ought to have a bonfire
To burn the falling leaves From my neighbour's bloody trees.
From my neighbour's bloody trees
I sweep them on my knees well, Mrs Software does, anyway ... sorry for leaping in.
We need to move the compost heap
Why is it in the lounge?
It warms the room, and as you know
It's eco-friendly - zounds!
The weeds are growing larger
Time to slash and burn (Softers) The only rhyme I could think of was scrounge.
Like Athens razed to ashes
Will we ever learn?
The flames have grown a bit too high
My burgers are imperilled!
I'll damp the flames with kerosene
My wife shouts, "Grow up, Gerald!"
I wish I wasn't burning
With such intense desire
To wish that I was yearning
For you to light my fire.
I wish I were a cricket ball
With stitched and puckered seam
I'd conjure up a googly
Be a spin bowler's dream
Their bats are made of willow
They play on a sticky wicket
Their stubble is like Brillo
It's prickly, so don't lick it
*Overheard*

I'll play a dazzling rhapsody
On all your pleasure centres
And drain you of your ecstacy
By taking out my dentures

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

I wish my dentures would fit right
Up Rupert Murdoch's arse Dreadfully sorry....
Then perhaps he'd feel the need
to show a bit more class moving speedily along
I'd like a little drop of milk
To pour into my tea
And sugar too, for I'm a builder
So can you make it three?
I'm forming an opinion That last one was nice. Congrats me (p) R, R, SM
That I'd like to express
I want you for a minion
To get me out this mess
I wish I were a rubber stamp
I'm sure I'd make my mark
And I'd be quite officious
To be frank, an autarch
The Dirty Dancer's danced his last
And now is just a ghost
They mourn in the City of Joy
For now he is just toast.
I wish I were a teetotum
A dreidel or whirligig
But spinning make me giddy
Explain your elections in Swahili then goad unemployable layabouts, dig?
I wish I could change just one thing:
The way that my bike bell goes ting!
Sorry, thinking in limericks there...
Actually, it could still work if read in ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum-ti-tum metre and AABB rhyming.
I'd rather it went boing instead (continuing with Raak's suggestion)
And boggle all those folks ahead
I wish that she would tell me
How white my shirts could be
If laundry maids all armed with bleach
Would point and squirt for free
A splash of paint, a dob of glue
I shall build a balsa plane;
I'll tie a hampster underneath
For I'm a sadist; I do pain.
A whip, some chains and baby oil
Are all I need, with you
As you are quite the sexiest
Welder I ever knew
I wish I were a piano string
That's tuned to middle C
I'd be reverberatering
And shaking at the knee
My love is like a piano string
That's tuned to middle C
Oh, what duets with her I sing
Played in a major key.
My love is like a red, red rose I can feel some sort of cascade coming on.
But woe, alas, alack!
The thorns attached have pricked me so
No comfort in the sack
My love is like a high, high hill
For ever in the clouds
The constant fog makes me feel ill
I'll soon be wrapped in shrouds
My love is like a green, green toad
She's just about to croak
But if I kiss her on the lips
All lust goes up in smoke
My love is like a big red bus (CdM, INJ) You two are evil
Whose engine's mighty throb
Makes all the blood rush to my cheeks
Which gives me a red gob
My love just makes me sing the blues
All day and all night long
The blisters from my blue suede shoes
Give sole to every song
My love is like a pink, pink pig
For I bring home the bacon (Darren) Admirable restraint.
Which fills her belly, round and big
For my bitch she is Jamaican
[i, R, D. S] That last one made me snigger out loud. Pork scratchings all round.
My love is like a chocolate cake
She's soft and sweet and yummy
A delicious moment on the lips
A squirming in the tummy.
My hate is like a black, black hole
'Cos I was once a star
That fell right in upon myself
When I thought I'd go far
My love is like an elephant
But with a tiny trunk
My manhood has some shortcomings
So I'll become a monk.
My love is like a great big dog
That licks on me with glee
And when we make the two-backed beast
I keep my eye out for a flea.
My love is like the River Thames
It's very, very wet
And when my lover tires of this
I towel off the sweat
My love is of the cupboard type
With lovely louvred doors
But I secretly admire
Her polished wooden floors.
My love is like a hungry wolf
That rends me limb from limb
A perfect dominatrix
Though not exactly trim.
Hidden textAnd my God, what a quim!
My life is like a Broadway play
On third thoughts
My life is like a Broadway show
And not a Broadway play
All dancing-girls and razz'matazz
To watch it, you must pay
My love is like a cockatoo
All noise and show and strut
When 'Polly wants a cracker', well,
She'll peck at nothing but.
My love is like a London bus
but you won't let me stop dearie me
Even though there's room on top
For all who'd like a pop. ...disgraceful...
[K, me, S, R] Splendid. beautifully set-up.
My love is like a village hall
That hasn't got a roof
So when it rains we use the church
It's not the same to tell the truth
My love is like a deep, deep fjord
By Slartibartfast made
Her crinkly edges are a joy
If to them attention's paid
My love is like a smorgasbord
Laid down for all to eat
Now, which bit shall I have today
I think I'll bite her feet
My love is like a summer's day
(Not a British one of course)
We love to roll in new-mown hay
She reminds me of a horse
My love is like a wild, wild wind
From eating too much chili
She's loud and doth so like to gas
It fair doth shrink my willy.
My love is like a pint of ale
Her mug froths at the mouth
She's bitter, stout and sometimes pale
And commutes from Whyteleafe South. Sorry, but not many rhymes.
My shed is made of finest teak
With hand-made brass door-hinges
The door itself shall never squeak
Thus conceal my secret binges
When times are tough, I often go
And rub my genie's lamp
It makes him very happy, and
His trousers damp Sorry, sorry, sorry ...
My love is like the purest thing Shameful, Softers, shameful...
Just think of driven snow
My love's more fluffy, whiter too
And just ten quid a go.
My love's a stream of bat's piss
Amber nectar from on high
And when I steal a fruity kiss
It squirts me in the eye
My love is much like fish and chips
A warm and greasy friend
The strangest feeling on the lips
In ecstasy I transcend
My love is like a pitted prune
A bit like my complexion
It looks its worst in early June
Bright sun shows each imperfection
My love is like a saxophone
As played by John Coltraine [Software] I hate to bellyache, but you've provided the last line in five out of the last six Glow Worms and spoiled the scansion in four of them. Please could you try to stick to "de-dum de-dum de-dum-dum"?
hear hear Kim
The scansion in Glow Worms can be anything that is rhythmic and fits; it does not have to be de-dum de-dum de-dum
Caressed it makes a blissful moan [Kim, Lurker] Luck of the draw, old mates. See also Rosie.
But blown it squeals in pain
His love is deeper than the sea
Hard to fathom , coral tough
And when she walks by with a wave,
It nearly is enough eh?

Their love is something never said
They do but gasp and grunt
While intertwined in passion
Imagine a final line containing the phrase ...thrust through her... Or perhaps not.
With a Bank to Morden shunt.
My love is like a teddy bear
He's bald; one eye is missing
He's furry and he paws on me
And squeaks when we are kissing
I wrote a letter to my love [S, p, i, K - delightful.]
Expressing my intention
Her answer came wrapped round a brick
Declaring her abstention
My love encompasses all things
All creatures great and small
Except the pygmy marmoset
I don't like it at all.
My love is like a boil-ed sweet
It's sweet and hard and sticky
And when I suck it in my cheek
I give myself a hickey
Our love was never rash or wrong
But rauchy, wriggly, rapt
Er, raunchy.
Now I'm covered in a itchy rash
All poxy, syphed, and clapped.
My loves are lovely, dark and deep
Consisting, as they do
Of Amelle, Jade and Heidi
Hidden textThe Sugababes, fyi
Tweety Pie and Wicky Woo
My love is like a firework
That explodes, then fades to dark
My cherry bomb has long been popped
We did it in the park.
The wisest thing I ever heard
I now will tell to you:
When romantic'lly you've erred We await the wisdom - who's it going to be, who's it going to be?
Just hide the corpse from view.
My love is like a stifled sneeze
Which makes your ears go pop
It's better out than in, I say
So don't let your knickers drop My coat is the one at the left hand side ...
My love is like an urban fox
A-rifling in the trash or 'bin' if you're English. You choose.
She slinks along the midnight docks
Exchanging sin for cash or vice versa if you speak Brit English
My love is like a whooping crane
Slender, tall, aloof
She eats raw fish for breakfast
While standing on the roof
My love is like a tower crane
She stands so tall and strong
Lifting bricks to dizzy heights
As she does my dong. lovely girl
My love is quite the ding dong bell (belle?)
She says I sound her chimes
We make love in the steeple
Countless, sinless times
Comme haut arbre est mon amour
Ca me paraît sans fin
Et moi, j'n'suis que minuscule
J'ai une pine, hélas, pas un pin.
Mein Liebling ist eine heftige Frau
Who doesn't speak the lingo
But underneath her monobrow
She thinks of naught but bingo.
My chair is made of plasticine
It moulds to my own shape
But when my cat sits on it
It acts like sticky-tape
My other chair's a Chippendale
With strong and shapely arms
It stoutly holds my nether end
While I display my charms
I sit in this ejector seat
Thanking heavens my hair is all neat
have we slipped mode?
Well, just for one ode
Back to normal when this is complete
The normal service is resumed
And nights feels most ashamed
That deed must never be exhumed
And no-one will be blamed
I sit in this ejector seat
With my finger poised over 'Re-Tweet'
(pen) Whyjer do that?
Because I have flu and my brain isn't working properly... sorry. Try again...
I sit in this ejector seat
And press the big red button
Alas, I'm in a 'copter
Over Carshalton and Sutton
I wish I were a beer mat (Chalky) :-)
Soaking-up real ale
But sadly I'm a meerkat [Rosie] ;-)
Deserted, full of fail
I wish that on the internet
I'd find just one true thing
Bat sadly there is Google
And, even worse, there's Bing
I wish I were the Christmas elf [Phil] the exact line I had envisaged ;o)
Who loads old Santa's sled
For after working all day long
I get ou' me 'ead.
I wish my Christmas stocking
Were twenty-four feet long
For holding my gift ladder
And the cast of 'Desert Song'
I wish I spoke Italian
Just like old Silvio
Coz the translation for 'stallion'
Is 'Sly Stallone' dontcha know Kapow.
I wish I were a snowflake
All flaky, frigid, cold
But I would be so delicate
I'd crumble, truth be told.
I wish I was a skater I've never seen the Dutch get so excited about anything so much as the prospect of canal skating at the weekend. Looking less likely now, though
In frilly lycra tights
Head down and arms a-flailing
On me you'd set your sights
I wish I were the evening star
Hesperus by name Hesperus by nature. Nudge, nudge.
Chuffing down to Swindon way
To take the wall of shame

- my paternal grandmother - god rest her soul - used the phrase 'wreck of the Hesperus' on a daily basis - not really sure why. She never mentioned evening stars or Swindon environs.

There's something 'bout a limerick
Don't know quite what it is (Chalky)
Hidden textSofters and I occasionally exchange cryptic references to steam locos in these pages and elsewhere in the Morniverse. "Evening Star" was the name given rather sentimentally to the last steam locomotive built by British Railways, at Swindon in March 1960. Ugly great thing, more like the Wr of the H. My Mum's favourite phrase was "Patience on a monument."
P'raps it is the scansion [rosie] ;o)
Or just where the wit is
This is my resolution:
Just ten square meals a day
One hundred miles of cycling
Then sell it on eBay
I wish I were a stick of rock
My avatar writ through
Or gothic-scribed with 'Blackpoo'[sic]
But Milton Keynes will do
I wish I were a Rolling Stone
Pref'rably Sir Michael
I'd proudly flaunt my rubb'ry lips
Which daily self-recycle
I wish I was a slow, sure thaw
That melts the ice and snow
I'd change the ice to sogginess
And make the rivers flow.
I wish I had a shopping list
To go with my fat wad
Because I'm so impulsive
At following a fad
It does not take me very long
In fact no time at all
To type into this little box
And see my words writ small
I wish I was a bulldog
Of true-bred British stock
Ugly, short and brutish ...shut up at the back...
And with a squash-ed clock
I've eaten too much fish and chips
To run the steeplechase
I'm wiser just to stay indoors
My tummy needs some space.
I wish I was a haggis
In the Highlands I would roam
Hunting down the savage neeps
For I'm no gastronome.
I wish I were a skier
A-hurtling fast downhill
A tree! I'd better veer
I wish I had the skill...
I wish I were a molecule
Bound covalently
With my neutrons and my protons
Yearning to be free
I wish I was Obama's dog
-ged Secretary of State
Then I'd have a dogged husband
With whom all shall mate.
I wish I were the King of Hearts
Ensconced 'tween Ace and Queen
I'd give you diamonds at the club
I think it has to be conceded that, sometimes, there simply is no last line capable of rounding off a stanza effectively.
I ask you to consider
[Kim] is that a first line? I was tempted to finish it myself, though poor form as I started it. I thought that:
Just don't ask where I've been
would have worked nicely.
What you'd do if I Assuming Kim's is a first line.
Was not the only bidder I looked at it a few times and ... gave up. But top notch, Softers. Why didn't you put it in?
For your loving eye.
I wish that global warming would
Come to this frozen waste
And make it just like Benidorm [pen] :o)
As tacky, lacking taste oblig
I wish I were a bar of soap
With a deodorant scent
I'd caress your every orifice
Until we're both quite spent
The Perry Bible Fellowship
Was born in Syracuse
Sometime's its just not funny giving a kick start
Depends upon your views.
I wish I were a bible
That stopped a 357   (a bullet calibre)
For then I would be holey
And finish up in Heaven oblig.
I wish I were a skating rink
Of ice - not just a roller
'Cos then I'd look up girlies' skirts
And pray for lack of solar Mercy killing
The problem with computers
Continually gets worse
We shouldn't all need tutors
Just ask the Morniverse
Were I the Easter Bunny
I'd bounce and skip and play
I'd dole out no coloured eggs
But only shades of grey.
Be careful what you wish for
Upon that far-off star
It could become black dwarf
Or go nova - worse by far
If ever you wish on a tsar
Make sure that you know C.P.R. limerick?
But something else will do
So let's plump for a clerihew
Eyjafjallajokull
Made all airlines look like a fool
But now it's relented (Chalky) And here's another one.
And the CAA's rep is dented. Heard on the radio this morning, someone saying that the policy had been zero tolerance for ash, and that the level deemed safe had now been raised by a factor of 10.
I wish I were a pilot
Recently on leave
For I wouldn't have to fly in ash
I'm really not naive - enough of this? I say yay.
I wish I were a shooting star
That others wish upon
But if I land in your back yard
You'll see that's just a con
I wish I were a tea-bag
Gently brewing in a pot
Unmindful of the scalding
Surroundings that I've got
If I could walk a silly walk
I'd join the Ministree
I'd hop and lurch and high-kick twice
And still not spill my tea
I'm glad I'm not a pollster
Like Gallop, YouGov, Mori
My prediction would be iffy
And punters would be sorry
I wish I was a baritone
Unlike say, Elton John
Then I'd seem more manly
When taking on the Don
I wish I were Mount Everest
Five miles high and more
My lofty heights are tempting
But your legs won't half be sore mercy killing
I wish I could show mercy
To all my enemies
But I like the feel of power
To see them begging on bent knees
I wish I were a blender Blender, I said.
Filled up with lentil soup
I'd whizz and whizz and whizz and whizz
Spinning leguminous goop
I'm getting very lazy
I put it down to age
I think much more before I do
Because my bird escaped its cage.
I drank a Bloody Mary
I won't do that again
It was full of tomato juice
Alas, it had no gin.
I wish it would stop raining
Assuming a missing line
penelope - I wish it would stop raining
Software - My hair is getting wet
That damp-dog odour follows me
I smell just like a pet!
I wish I were a business card
So slick like Fonzarelli
I'd hand myself out at the pub
Too bad they're watching telly
I wish I were a vuvuzela
Buzzing all day long
'Twould even kill Methuselah
Can so many be so wrong?
I wish I were on holiday
Amidst the snowy peaks
Alas I am in Basingstoke
Amidst the yobs and freaks
I like my pies with gravy
Deep fried with mushy peas
Gastronomic'lly I'm cheap
And not difficult to please
I wish I'd put yeast in my dough
My bread has gone all flat
Can water possibly make it grow?
Nah ... Let's stuff it with fat!
Now tear along the dotted line
At sixty miles an hour
Veer not to either left or right
Just go straight full power.
I wish I were a football match
Shown on ITV
With ad breaks for consumer goods
The money'd go to me!
We play the vuvuzela with
With England on our mind
Just add a swannee whistle and
(Anyone for a swannee-vuvuzela performance?)
And you'll go deaf and blind    Wait. "Swannee whistle" is a euphemism, right?
I wish I were a scarecrow
Standing in a sunny field
I'd buy all the suntan lotion
Until everybody peeled!
The poppy fields are my domain
They earn me quite a packet
So I'll defend them might and main
Against a Cosa Nostra racket
I wish I were a football
Just kicked around by all
Except, that is, the England team
Or that of nearby Gaul.
A football should be round and firm
Just like an apricot
Which should be sweet of taste in turn
– Reject it if it's not
I was sort of hoping for "Just like a football's not".

I wish you'd never shown me
How not to kick that ball
Then I'd not have played for England
And come home with f*ck all .. moving swiftly on ...
I wish I were a clothes peg
Clamped tightly on your knickers
A freshening breeze blows up your leg sorry sorry sorry
Quite startling passing vicars
American Football's what Charlie Brown would play
But the ball he would kick is shaped more like an egg
But Gordon Brown played rugby with an oval ball bit clunky, this
And Lord George-Brown would never budge from square leg. "Many modern poems are like bells of lead. They should tinkle melodiously, but usually they just klunk." (Dunsany) Can we tinkle a little more melodiously, please?
I wish melodious tinkles would
Less often splash the seat [irach] That's what you were angling for, isn't it?
But sitting isn't manly
When your trochees touch your feet
I wish I were a radio mic
Attached to Gordon Brown oblig.
Then I could let the whole world know
Why governments fall down mercy
I wish my suitcase would come back
From far-off Timbuktu
Alas, its British Airways - from bitter experience
So my bag's now in Peru
I wish I'd never mentioned
My girl-friend to my Mum
As now she wants to meet her
And then become her chum
I wish I were a conker (Softers) This has happened to me in the past. It is Not Good.
A hundreder at least
With n'eer a dent upon me
I'd slay the slimy beast!
I wish I were a croûton
Dunked in hot onion soup
From then I'd become soggy
And lost in all the gloop.
I wish I was in England just got off the ferry from Hull this morning and feeling very foreign here again - but managed to use my clumsy Dutch to ask for change to use the car wash - hurrah!
Drinking brown English ale
Watching cricket in the rain[pen] you found someone in the Netherlands that doesn't speak English! Spraken het Netherlands has corrupted your grammar, surely it is subjunctive when one wishes ;o)
And reading The Daily Mail who lives in the United States!
I wish I were made of purple taffeta
All shiny and crisp on the outside, lined with pink satin I'm not sure what metre this is...some sort of pentameter it seems, in a mixture of iambs and amphibrachs
I would look just like Liberace
With a flouncy bag to put my hat in And now, back to normal...
I wish it was steak pie tonight Sausages tonight. Steak pie on Thursday but I'm stewing it now and it smells delish... freezer full of imported English food, y'see
Instead it's bloody sausages A rhyming challenge, but it was forced, really.
But with onions and mash (CdM) Yeah, forced. Chips? I dunno.
I minimise my lossages.
I wish I were in Camelot
With Arthur and his pals
I'd ride a steed and lance a lot
Of the "purty" gals.
I wish I were a cola
Instead, I'm Panda pop
I'm not the drink, I'm the game!
And my scansion seems to drop
My fizz and sparkle all leached out
Upon these barren shores
So back to Ramsgate I must sail
And clean my facial pores!
I wish that flotsam didn't float
And jetsam would just sink
But water, it is just too dense
Though fish ne'er touch the brink!
I wish I were a hosepipe
But not while there's a drought
I like to spout, not dribble
And wear my knickers inside-out!
My water-butts are all quite full
Of slime and rotting leaves
So into it you thus must luzz
Wot a tangled ryme we weaves!
There isn't time to start the day
The sun is still asleep
And so am I
Deep
My snore, I'm told, is very loud
I could wake the dead.
And, alas, my other half
Takes someone else to bed sorrysorrysorry
I wish I were the Ace of Spades (pen) Yeah, me too. Farting.
For I so love to dig
I'd dig for diamonds and win hearts
And spend time in the brig.
I wish I were in Shangri-la
Or else in Xanadu
Fulham Road just ain't the same
When I am not with you.
Next month I'm getting married
To my cousin's mother's brother
I only really chose him
'Cos oldies, there's no other!
My uncle is the man I married
So therefore we're both gay
My step-kids are my cousins
And **** lots when they play! (I know...so wrong.)
These rhymes are getting pretty racy
We'd better tone it down.
It's time for straight-laced prudence
To shed her straight-lace gown
I wish I were a road hump
I'd slow you down for sure
I'd mess with your suspension
And shake you to the core There is a local road here where the bloody things are so high and narrow that they bottom on my gearbox - grrrrr!
[Software] You can bottom on my gearbox any time
I wish I were a camel's hump
The dromedary kind
A hairy desert-crossing lump
A seat for your behind
I wish the game of Limericks
Would only need four lines
Then that would save on typing
and leave time for shoeshines.
I wish I were a wiener
And on the Danube be
So please don't wish my town goodnight
We waltz til half past three
I wish I were in Amsterdam
Relaxing with a spliff
I'd close my eyes and take a drag
And chase a hippogriff.
I wish a were Geordie (Kag S, Giert)
Hidden text = From north-east England. Agreeable but incomprehensible speech, football-mad, often lacking both sobriety and appropriate clothing etc, etc.
With tons o' kegs 'o beer
I'd never share them with my friends
They're Southerners, thus queer!
Hidden text[Rosie] Take that, old chum :-)
I wish I were a Welshman
Brandishing a leek
I'd be "Leek King" of Casnewydd
I wish I played cassette tapes
With Dolby Stereo sound
But I have just my eight-track
And half a lousy pound.
I wish that pair would go away
You know just who I mean
I think that same thought every day
It's not the king and queen.
I wish a were a candlestick
Hot wax poured down my body
Depilating furtively
I'd hate to be Bill Oddie oblig. What a load of rot. Can we please have some sense in limericks, if that's not an oxymoronic thing to ask?
I wish I was a ninja's sword
Most dangerous to wield
I'd snicker-snack 'til daybreak
While talking to the shield
The vole deserves a mention
For its green and frugal life
As also its fecundity
Who'd be the vole's poor wife?
Let's not forget the porcupine
He's sharp and to the point
But when it comes to making love
It takes much more than 'point and shove' point??? Also, *gets coat*
Now let us praise the noble eel
Anoint it with hot oil
Its slimy length slips down the throat
To in your tummy coil
eeeeuuuuwwwww
The river bed is home to chub
Chubby as chubs can be
A little maggot on a hook
Then supper - yes sirree
Now its time to talk of tench
But not of Angelfish
A tench is just a would-be carp
And makes a tasty dish.
Consider now the salmon
Which jumps upstream to spawn
It has no need for smutty books
Or any brains, just brawn
The cod, a northern waters type
Is tasty? No, that's just hype
But in its time its caused more wars
Than a baby's dirty dipe. Was struggling for a rhyme.
When the Northern Sea gets stormy
And the fishing boats are tossed
The humpback whales start singing
As the the cod find to their cost.
I wish I were a trawlerman Welcome back, Rosie
Battling the icy waves
But I am a much smaller man
A youth who rarely shaves
I wish these piranha lacked teeth
So they would not scan so badly
While swimming by the Barrier Reef
And masticating madly.
The way to treat a gentleman
To keep him on his toes
is to tap him on the shoulder
And recite some bawdy prose
A common chap, it must be said
Stands firm upon the ground
A baseball cap atop his head
His belly large and round.
A man with just a bit of class (or class, depends on where you're from as to how you say it)
Beats a man who just has none
He'll play down his credentials
But you'll know that you've been done
I wish I were an aardvark oblig.
Munching down on yummy ants
Instead I'm just a card shark
Five aces in my pants
I wish I were a kinkajou
It's such a cutesy word
The carcajou is just passé
A wolverine, I've heard.
Among the forest, lives something
Hidden textIt seems that sometimes when people try to rhyme the 1st and 3rd lines, the poems don't scan and they forget that the 2nd and 4th lines should rhyme.
With twenty thousand eyes
But the twenty thousand cataracts
Cause twenty thousand styes
The telly has a broken screen
The rain drips through the roof
There's dry rot in the window frames
And mildew on the pouffe
I wish I had a winning line
For my football pool do they still have those?
I'd keep my secret to myself
And count my cash, and drool.
I've bloody won the jackpot!
In my office sweep
I got the winning ticket
The prize? A blow-up sheep :-(
My di-ri-gi-ble ovine
Gives me a lot of fun
Confusing all the sheepdogs
Sensors (please excuse the pun)
Yesterday was my birthday
The 27th one
Everybody ate lots of turkey
And learned how to write Glowworms
I wish I could knit sweaters
Or even crochet scarves
My bottom might not be so cold
I'll not do things by halves
This trend for shortening player's names
Deserves a special mensh
It makes me an Egyptian god
But I am still a wench.
I feel like I'm a little Greek
Mine suits my occupation
This looks much more malible
But I'm just a negation
Run down and slightly suspect
And suffering with acid
I'm not in my element
And not much good when flassid
I wish I were in Lapland
With Santa and his reindeer
I'd take a curing water bath SO looking forward to the rhyme match on the last line ...
To get rid of this pain, dear
It seems quite elemental
To measure stuff by hand
But in case of more precision
Use a rubber band!
For a pet, I want a unicorn
A griffon or centaur
I shun such things as pussy cats
They leave me wanting more
I wish I were a shovel
In a brawny stoker's hand
Feeding hungry furnaces
Ah! Wouldn't life be grand!
I wish I were a Christmas pud too early?
Made by Blumenthal
Maybe I'd taste really good
If made in the fall!
It seems the snow has cleared at last
Or turnèd into slush
Both arms, one leg in plaster cast
Take heed: on ice don't rush!
The honeymoon is at an end
A split is on the cards
He caught her in the bellboy's arms
Drinking pints and yards Nice pub, the Bellboy's
It seems we never take a break
From standing on our feet
Except when we are lying down
Felled by the icy street
I wish I were an asteroid
Careering round in space
Waiting to be named after
One of the human race
I wish I were a reindeer
I'd rein in all the deer
I'd put vermilion on their snouts
And a tail-light on their rear.
I wish that I had Santa's sack
Full of Christmas goodies
I'd give those reindeer all a smack bah humbug
Like ASBO-worthy hoodies.
I'm flippin' sick of Christmas
How sick? That's so polite!
I've upchucked all my cookies
On Giertrud - out of spite
I wish I were a bottle
Of moonshine or poteen
I'd upchuck all my stomach contents
And turn dear Spangle green.
Hidden textRevenge, sweet revenge.
It's now two-oh-eleven
You had said half-past-eight
On this stairway to heaven
I hate it when you're late.
I wish I were a blowlamp
With a single fiery eye.
Whate'er I looked at would burn up
And in-stan-tally die.
I forgot to wear my underwear
Commando by default
Mercy killing I'm hopeless and I'm childish
A clueless simple dolt
I cannot make the meeting
I'm running rather late
Leaves on the line at Coulsden
Have really clogged the gate.
They say we must work harder
But won't pay a penny more
I've got an empty larder
And rats upon the floor
I only wish the bosses
Could live on crumbs and gruel
This may well cut their losses
Or just shareholders fool
I'd rather be in Timbucktu
Unearthing ancient books
Rather than be a sous chef
One of too many cooks
I say! This broth is spoiled
Waiter, can you catch this fly?
Don't worry, sir, it's boiled
Never mind, I'll take the pie
A Broadway play on tour
Performed by English men
Arrived in Pascagoula
Then quickly left again
This crossword is too cryptic
It would take a cipher whiz
Or that bloke that's down the pub
Who always wins the quiz
This rumpsteak is too chewy
It's made from kangaroo
It's served à la chop suey
Quickly, where's the loo? [Spangle] just what I had in mind
I wish I were a satnav Trad.
Signaled by GPS
I'd have you drive right through a lake
and make you a big mess.
I've ne're time to play this game
For that we're truly pleased
So this line isn't really here
It's just something I sneezed
laughs out loud
I wish I were a sewer rat
Just lolling in the muck
To live in filth is de rigeur
If fragrant you're a schmuck
mercy killing - ain't it curious how some of these little ditties just take off and others hang around like a smell on a landing ..
I wish I were a landing smell yeah... oblig.
Pervading everywhere
My sulphuretted compounds
Would announce Kilroy was there.
I wish I were a poultergeist
A ghost of chickens past
I'd just pull off my drumsticks
Then headlessly run fast
I wish I were a tuba
With a 'normous shiny bell
My basso tones will resonate
And make your life sheer hell. This has sat here for 9 days so I've finished it myself. I wouldn't say it was a particularly difficult one.
I wish I were an endgame Time, gentlemen?
A glow-worm's final thrust
The last bright glimmer in the dark
Arising from the dust
Why kill it? It moves faster than any other game in MC5.
I wish you'd all just go away
I know just what you mean
You're really getting up my nose
Like Elton John, great queen.
My phone ate the "whoops" button
didn't realize we were missing our dividing line
My phone ate the "whoops" button
It thought it was delicious (this is the 2nd line - the first is "my phone at the whoops button)
It tasted of old mutton
Which makes me feel suspicious
I wish to make a statement
That will edify the press:
"I've got loads of money -
Most people have got less."
I wish I were a paintbrush
Thrust deep in thick, thick paint
I'd spread it 'cross your canvas
But an oil painting? You ain't.
I need some inspiration
My mind has drawn a blank
Has anyone got any thoughts
I did have, but they stank.
(Rosie has cleverly made my move look like I forgot the question mark.)
[Knobbers] That's cut-throat competitve poetry for you. Well - doggerel dogfights, anyhoo.
It's funny how your brightest thoughts
Are had while in the bath
These musings land one in the courts (Knobbly) So you did. I've only just noticed.
(pen) Knobbers? Knobbers?? You're dir'y.
If played out before a hearth Broad "a" mode.
I wish I were a lawyer
Who travels place to place
Distributing fee notes
And winning every case
I'm glad I'm not a banker
For bonuses I hate
Those coins weigh down my pockets
And make me very late.
Beware the Jabberwock my son!
His eyes are all aflame
Be bold, and with your vorpal sword
Restore our family name.
This recipe for meatloaf
Needs garlic -- twenty cloves
This means that it can stop a train
And empty it, in droves Hmmm. Maybe someone else could have done it better.
I wish that I could write a verse [pen] good result given the circumstance
In praise of paradigms
But that would clearly be peverse
So just do one that rhymes.
I wish that I were far away
In fabled Samarkand
I'd grab a passing camel
And ride across the sand
I've learned why these are called glowworms
(Though I haven't quite mastered the form)
Though they're nothing like a limerick
Nobody really notices if I add an extra beat or two - hang on, where's me mate?
So why am I a glowworm? come and have a go if you think you're hard enough
Because, by night, you shine
Your arse emits a friendly light
That almost outshines mine
I wish I were a pot-hole (irach) Er, we'll be the judge of that. :-)
To lie in wait for bikes
I lure unwary pedallers [p, R, SM, i] marvellous. And not just because it's apparently in praise of me :o)
Then I leaps out and strikes
Today's the day the Aintree nags
Leap o'er Becher's Brook
And bookies take their money bags
To fill with takings took
I beat the bookies at their game
My stake went on a silly name
And when the first horse passed the post
I was the one who'd won the most so sorry, it ran away with me
I wish the odds were better
'Gainst life's slings and arrows (pen) I hope you behaved yourself.
But with the right protection
The winning margin narrows
I wish I were a policeman
Because I am power mad
My truncheon would be hard and thick
A lot like me and dad
I wish I were a spotted skunk
A weas'lly little stinker
And smell just like my grandpa stunk
'Tho I'm just a little pinker
This break in the proceedings
Could not have been timed better
I'll go and take some readings (mode = weather nut.)
And see if it got wetter awright, Rosie?
I wish I were a cloudburst (pen) Das Wetter ist sehr trocken.
I'd rain all over you
With splishy-sploshy raindrops
As big as drops of dew
The sun today is very hot
But the air is very cold
Sunburn, frostbite, all at once
But where? You shan't be told
I'm working very hard today
At writing deathless prose
I'm trying to clear my desk, you see
Of all that is verbose.
The midnight oil's all been burned
Adding to greenhouse gases
The textbook pages have been turned
By studious lads and lasses.
The time has come for all good men
To join in our just cause
And if we find agreement, then
We'll campaign to change the laws
Good women too, are needed here
They add that feminine touch
As long as they don't get ideas
And wear the trousers much *steams*
I wish I were a referee (pen) Not surprised. Get some water in the boiler - quick.
I rule with rod of steel
Don't hesitate to show the red
If the goalie's not genteel.
The linesman has an easy job
He types <hr> and lo!
A new fresh piece of webpage
Let creative juices flow!
The policeman's lot is happy
As kettling he doth go
He views the world as crappy
He's act'lly right, you know.
The marks are all submitted
The final grades are in
The students are all failing
Their careers are in the bin
If I were Occam's Razor
I'd only have one blade
The epiphytes of reason
Expediently flayed
If I were that much shorter
Then I wouldn't bump my head
But six foot four-and-a-quarter
I can't fit in my bed!
I wish a were a piece of gum
Stuck underneath a desk
I'm bioindestructible
And truly look grotesque
A blob of primal bubble gum
With plastic spider in
Oh dear, am I in trouble, mum?
For ruining your gin? mercy killing
I wish I were a tapeworm
As some have done before
I'd sink my suckers in your gut
And have a proper gnaw
I wish I hadn't started
To paint this flipping bridge
My arms are jolly tired
And all bitten by a midge
I wish I were a cheesecake
Covered in blueberries
Served with Cornish clotted cream
And on the top some cherries.
Or some fruit or other from Waitrose in Didcot which is even posher than Newbury's. What a complete pile of crap.
I used to have ambition
Me too; I now know better
Why bother when there's someone else
Who's more of a go-getter
I'll never give up trying
I'll always do my best
OK, OK, I'm lying
Glad I got that off my chest
I wish I were a penguin
I can't quite fathom why
I'd be waddling in the bitter cold
Under a shelterless sky.
I wish I knew the reason
My nose keeps falling off
Though it really only happens
When I stick it in the trough.
I wish I knew what I should do
But I am now in despair
If only I could find a clue
But I've looked everywhere.
I'm glad I'm not a bidet
It's a rather thankless position
I sluice away the products
Of a person's bottom section
I love my little lobster
Jayne Mansfield is her name
She will not lie or rob, sir
And she's not a crabby dame
I used to count on fingers
But now we all use digits
With bits and bytes I get confused
And nybbles give me fidgets.
While seated at the organ [Rosie] Up went the lobsters, Boiinnng!
I played a Bach cantata (Kim) Those infernal crustaceans.
The coda it was foregone
Like sex in Lysistrata.
The Big Bad Wolf is at the door
I heard his Big Bad howl
I'm curled up on the Big Bad floor
With Big Bad Tessa Jowell. Tess y diawl ( = Tess the devil).
I wish I were a Murdoch Hack
Gath'ring lies and muck
I'd rake it in a heinous stack
And print it. What the f*ck.
I wish I were a grease gun Pe-NE-lopeh, really! Nice one, BTW.
To lube your balls of steel
A dollop just might ease one
But I'd have to check and feel the showerproof trench in lilac... thanks
I wish I were connected
Like the Internet at home
I'd have my own IP address
Like private-eye@gnome.
Hidden textAll right, it's an email address. Bugger off.:-)
I wish I had some glasses
To pour us all a drink
Then we'd start making passes
At penelope we'd wink you know you like it, really ;o)
Once, I winked at a poet
I bet it were Ian MacMillan
I wondered how you'd know it
As he's not exactly thrillin' sorrysorrysorry
I wish I were a drawing pin
Dropped point-up on the floor
I'll lurk there 'til your unshod feet
Learn what a pin is for.
The Purpose of the Noble Pin
[cfm] More good stuff! The pin and the Lysistrata ones are two of my recent favorites.
Is simple to explain:
It pricks, it pierces, burrows in
To produce instant pain
They tried to pin it on me
And I gave a girlish shriek
As my plasma went free
I started feeling weak.
I started Monday morning
With a song apon my lips
By Friday afternoon at 5
'Twas settled on my hips.
My bagpipe playing will improve
Whenever I quit smoking
I put a gasper down each drone (gasper n. cigarette)
The Scots, they think I'm joking.
[i, cfm, SM, R] Very satisfying, that last one - because of use of the word 'gasper', and also because of the cruelty to bagpipes.
It's all done, bar the shouting
And even that's diminished
So, when you're done with pouting
this rhyme, they say, is finished.
I'll raise a glass to one and all
A worthy toast it is
To this quite splendid cannonball
A long draught of Bucks Fizz
My first appears in sun and rain - solve the word puzzle - can we make this work?
The next in ears and nose.
My third in fourth but not in fifth
My fourth in drawers not hose
The time to buy some posher plonk (crossing over from the limerick game here)
Is the time when you have money
Then with winish snobbery
Serve it mixed with honey (I don't like them dry wines)
'Twas on a bright September morn
When I met my true love
But then the teacher caught us
As I began to shove Coat!
I wish I were the author
Of some fine erotic verse
I'd win you -- first with subtle rhymes
Then something more perverse
There's something big and hairy there.
Rebekah Brooks it is
She shares a hairdo with Shaun White
When it rains, it tends to frizz
I wish I had completed
What I set out to do
Alas, I was defeated
By black magic and voodoo
I wish I had a flower pot
To place upon my roof
Amongst the tiles and slates, it's bloom
Would brighten, fade, then...poof!
I wish the zombie at my door
Would kindly bugger off
He visited me once before
And all my brains did scoff
:^)
I have a small confession
'bout a weakness that I have
I have sworn off the repression
But deep down I'm just a chav.
I wish that I was ten feet tall That zombie one was excellent =)
I'd look down on the throng.
Then they would look up at me
And dangle from my thong
I called and left a message
That said please call me back
I guess you didn't hear it
Or you've given me the sack
I wish I were a sack of spuds
Wilja, Queens or Roosters
Producing enough biofuel
To launch two rocket boosters
I wish I was on top of things
I'd be a happenin' dude
My minions toiling down below
Would be completely screwed
I wish I had a bushy beard
I'd stroke it thoughtfully
And in it I'd collect stale food
For when there's naught for tea.
I wish I had a fine moustache
To hide my crooked lip
I wouldn't fake with chimney ash
In case my nose did drip
I wish I had big sideburns on we go...
Like 'Elvis mutton chops'
I'd wag them fiercely in your face
Until you called the cops.
My blue suede shoes are rather tight
My sparkly pants are, too
My hips are arthritic now
But Hound Dog, I love you
Oh, to live with floppy ears
Like HRH the heir
Which makes no sense to most of us
So shall we leave it there?
Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.
Mother's watching, you see.
The scansion is just hard, there, and it seems to have stalled us. May I offer a slight rewrite?

penelope: Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.

cfm: Mother's watching us.

CdM: So take it easy, Mrs Peel

Get it done - no fuss
I need some information
That is hid in antient tomes
It's all about the height of dwarves
And religious views of gnomes.
If I was blessed with hindsight
I'd know my bum was clean
Alas, I'm no contortionist
And so it goes unseen
The trouble with solicitors
Hang on, where do I start?
My phone is ringing off the hook
It rings each time I fart.
I wish I were a carpenter
You'd see that I can saw
I'd take out my nice big tool
And drop you through the floor assuming it's a wooden floor
I wish I were a foolish maid Brains? What are they good for? They only get you into trouble and create more work.
A-milking foolish cows
Flirting with a scurvy knave
And more, as time allows.
I wish I were not at this desk
At this ungodly hour
This corp'rate life is too grotesque
Except for those with power
Brains are just a waste of space
And so are dirty socks
But well-coiffed whiskers on one's face
Can cover up one's pocks
It only takes a second to ... - usa
Say "thank you" now and then
Manners maketh man you know
But banging maketh MEN!
I wish I were a mermaid
My shimmery tail would swish
Enticing foolish sailors
Who yearn women that smell like fish
Calypso on her island
Conceals her true intent
Her penchant for fresh crabmeat
To mask that fishy scent
If I were a door knocker
I'd want a change of job
I'd be shiny, bold as brass
And be a polished knob.
Behold this knob of butter
Behold this cob of corn
The use for these is obvious
Now, let's go make some porn
I wish I were a porn star
Is the title of a book
I've seen the author's photo
It wasn't worth the look
I wish I were a smuggler
I'd deal in contraband
Forget parades and celebrations
My wares are much too grand.
I wish my nose were bulbous
Karl Maldenesque, indeed
I'd snore with improved resonance
My breath it would impede mercy killing...
Have mercy on the graceless
The faceless and the lost
For without eyes they cannot see
And mouthless, cannot floss.
I wish I was a haggis
But fried instead of simmered.
With my buddies neeps and tatties
On pure white plates that glimmered.
Let he who is without sin cast
A blessing on this place
For purity is rare indeed
And we could use some grace
I wish I had pink toe shoes
And a pink tutu as well
I'd prance across the try line
Oh how I wish I was a gel
It only takes a little snip
To right those years of wrong
To redirect each errant ship
And invert that manly dong Coat!
The thickest mist has envelopèd
My normally robust brain
And thus it has developèd
To drizzle, then light rain.
Hidden text[Rosie] What ho, old chum!
I'm glad I'm not Italian [Where's you bin, Rosie?]
I'm not a fan of gnocchi
Focaccia brings me out in hives
Like Berlusconi's cock(y). (Softers, Phil(th)) Avoiding irritation and the consequent hypertensive stress and the casting of heavy objects at the screen. However, this place is addictive.
I wish I were a hedgehog
All cute, but rather prickly
Hidden text[Rosie] thought so.
I'd take care while crossing roads
Or I'd meet my Maker quickly
I wish I were a filament
Or something just as tenuous
This constant need for intro lines
Is getting rather strenuous Oblig.
I wish that I could start anew
And be sixteen again
I wouldn't have a single clue
But sex would be the same
I wish I knew just what to do
In high-class situations
My knowledge of such etiquette
Is scant, and strains relations.
I wish I could convince you
That rats and voles and foxes
Lack pouches like a kangaroo's
So keep their young in boxes  Poor form to post twice in the same verse, but it just seemed right.
I wish my next-door neighbour
Would leave her curtains open
My TV isn't working [CdM] Sometimes you just know what has to be done. We've all been there
So I'm sittin' here just mopin'
I wish the cold would go away
And visit Timbuctu
Cos then, I could just throw away
This useless cure for 'flu
I wish I were the antidote
To all things good and pure
Just read The Sun and take it in
Then don't read any more.
Detaching burrs from dog fur
Is a fine career for all!
It's advertised on craigslist
For it's best to start off small
To find a pleasant country home
One must search far and wide
While if you want a council flat
Let caution be your guide
I wish I were a rock star
Like Freddie M of Queen
I'd give myself a pseudonym
Like "Prince" or "Mr Bean"
I wish I were a comic
Ironic and profane
With fortune astronomic
And a demeanour insane
I wish I were a member
But I can't afford the dues
And also I was blackballed
For having muddy shoes
A friend of mine once told me
She was born on Ganymede
By Jove, she's Galilean
And rides a martian steed.
I wish that I were liquid
I'd then go with the flow
And if I had a quick wit
Be quicksilver on the go
My horse has lost his whinny
And worse than that, its neigh
It's gone mute, poor hinny
That's all there is to say
A cat has got my horse's tongue
And ate the whole thing down
And now her caterwaul sounds hoarse
Which makes the neigh-bores frown.
I wish I were a diction'ry (Chalky, last one) Gracefully terminated at long last.
My life would have such meaning!
I'd never be at a loss for words
They call it verbal preening ... which seems to be stalling the natural flow of this game [Ta Rosie]
I'd hate to be a pinko *ducks*
'Cos all my friends are Tories
And doubtless they would think, "Oh..."
"never mind those dodgy stories" mercy killing
I wish I were a carving knife
I'd slice the Christmas ham
My cuts would all be fancy
the best of them just glam!
I wish it was still Nineteen Ten only because it scans and might have a rhyme
When I was just a tot
My dear Mama was nineteen then
But me, I'd seen the lot.
I wish it were tomorrow
And not just half-past-eight
Because I will be given
A purple, wrought-iron gate
I wish today would never end
Tomorrow I get hung
[Raak] LOL
And well hung I hope you'll be (Raak) Did you mean hanged?.
When from the rope we're swung
I need a way to make this clean
And free from filthy canker
Lest I be charged with lechery
And told to leave Sri Lanka
I wish I were a drawing pin Last one v. good, esp. Chalky
Point-up upon a chair
To prick the pompous arses when ... Ta Rosie :)
I feel their derriere TVM. A gift.
I wish I were a guinea pig [Darren] Did you mean swanged?
Caged up in a lab [CdM] That's the sort of thing Google usually says to me.
Warm and cosy, drugs galore
Doesn't that sound fab?
I wish I had a horse and plough
And maybe one small field
I'd have a place to sow wild oats
Before my fate was sealed
I wish I had a quiet weekend [Chalky] "Sri Lanka" - excellent :-)
Sailing the Aegean sea
I'd sail inside a giant yacht
Just, I, myself, and me.
Some lovely glow-worms recently, goed gedaan
I wish the housework did itself
While I snoozed 'neath the covers
My Roomba, Scooba, REEM, and Nao
Cleaning up during their hovers
I wish I had another arm
I'd hug you even tighter
And when you were relaxed and calm
I'd box your ears, you blighter. Confused messages. Keep 'em on their toes
The answer to this anagram
Is "Awesome tartan thrashing"
I've solved it here's the answer:

Software - I've solved it! Here's the answer question:
CdM - O what's a reet rant mashing?
Footnote 1: @Darren Yes, I did see what you did there
Footnote 2: @Software Apologies for taking that liberty with your line
Footnote 3: "rant" (Scots dialect, stretching usage just a bit) = merry, wild
[CdM] Yeah, as soon as I posted it I realised I'd screwed up the poem. It would have been better to try for it on line 4. Still, onwards and upwards.

The answer to this anagram
O what's a reet rant mashing?...
What that means is anger or
Awesome tartan thrashing
Now there's class.

I wish I had a snooker cue

I'd pot a ball or two ... admirable work on last one, Darren and CdM :-)
For those watching in black and white
I'll pot the pink, then blue.
I wish my head was screwed on right
Alas, it's set askew
So please ignore my curious stance
On quitting the EU
I wish you'd stop your robbing banks
For making themselves rich
And why am I still firing blanks?
My snip still needs a stitch (A merciful seeing off, sorry Chalks)
Thanks pen - was wondering how to 'do the double' and get rid of the darned thing myself ..
I wish my current deadline
Was twenty weeks away
But sadly I am overdue
From the 21st last May
I wish I were just virtual
Instead of flesh and bone
I'd feed off Apple- Macintosh
And leave the cakes alone Funny how the line comes to you after five days or so...
I wish I mashed potatoes
The way my mother did
Some subtle twisting of the wrist
Then mix in puréed squid
I wish that I lived closer
to Kingston-upon-Hull
Right now I live near Worcester
Where life's just dross and dull
Oh how I wish this Valentine
That I were wed, not single
When I am 80 who will care
To share my final Pringle?
... Because, when all the chips are down [Darren} Nice.
You know who you can trust
Not gold, nor crown, nor any thing
But you can rely on lust.
I wish it weren't leap year
Have to work an extra day
To make it worse, it's New Year's Eve,
At least that's months away apologies for the double entry, couldn't pass it up
It takes a leap of faith
To cross the gorge of doubt
Or so the parson saith
To prove one is devout
I wish it weren't so quiet
I really, really do
For if I could hear a whisper
I may just talk to you
I wish to make a statement
That's short and bold and true
....: There will be an abatement
While I am on the loo sorrysorrysorry
While sitting in the smallest room
I think my largest thoughts
And sometimes I might fall asleep
Enthroned on chamberpots
The thing with toilet humour
Is it's easy to pooh-pooh
The top reasons- numbers one and two
You first must use the loo
There wasn't any questioning
Of the first suspect in queue
The second, third, and fourth went by
But now we'll question you
I wish I were in Dixie
In past subjunctive mood
Meetin' y'all and eatin' grits
And other Southern food
Sing Glory Hallelujah!
And praise the Lord as well!
Then buckle on your Bible belt
This ark's rocking like hell.
And take the road to Hell
Drat simulpost, ah well ...

I'm reeling from the budget

I don't know how I'll pay
I guess I'll have to fudge it
And clear my debts some day.
This most delightful weather Can you really tell that I'm English?
Surely cannot last [pen] how about me, then?
The only question's whether
The storm comes slow or fast
In Spring, a young man's fancies
Are the same as Summmer's and Fall's
The Susies and Jennies and Nancies
Will just kick him in the balls ... coat! ..
At weekends I like lazing
With tea and chocolate biccs
Just sitting in my armchair
In a bra and lacy knicks Least said, soonest mended
... mended. [Made me chuckle, mind]
Chalky - I'd love to take a holiday
To Margate I shall go
With thermal vest and woolly socks
And bucketloads of dough ... sorry - greedy greedy me taking another line
Returning to the office,
He found his desk had gone
"The second time this week!" he thought
"Just what is going on?"
He went to see the Bureau Chief
Demanding explanation
Insisting that he catch the thief
Or tend his resignation.
The Bureau Chief was unimpressed
And quickly sent him packing
The office cleaner then confessed
She'd sent the desk for stacking
The cleaner hadn't realised
That desks were custom-built
Stacking, it could be surmised
Produced an ominous tilt
The Chief sought out this listing stack
And made a bold decision
Even though he knew his staff
Would meet it with derision
"We'll make a matching stack of chairs
Just there, beside the door
And when the workforce grows in size
They'll sit upon the floor."
*is almost afraid to add to the 6 stanzas above which appear to have auto[Raak]-completed with stark yet exquisite simplicity*
And as no-one else has waded in - shall we leave it as it is?
They'll all join hands and sing a song
Of how, in days gone by,
The desks were stacked, quite out of reach
And we'll all wonder why....
But suddenly the bottom desk
Slipped right out of line
The bureau chief was heard to shout,
"Stand back - that one is mine!"
And then, with a tremendous crash
(Preceded by a rumbling)
The pile of office fur-nit-ure
On his head came a-tumbling. - oops
The moral of our sorry tale
Will soon become quite clear
For stacking wobbly desks is fraught
With risk to one's career.
Thank God! The chief was only bruised
And bounced back with panache
He said "I'll sack the silly fool"
And sneered 'neath his moustache.
So what would be the cleaner's fate?
Would she just lose her rag?
No, this char is far too cool
And sneaks out for a fag.
But when she steps outside the door
The nasty boss is waiting
"How dare you stack those desks", he booms
With tone harsh and berating
The tangled heap of fallen desks
Lies just inside the door
The cleaner is defiant
She won't take it any more
"You can stick your desks," the cleaner cries
"Somewhere the sun don't shine"
"Like in the basement storage room"
"Where I must work from mine!" echoes of 'Office Space' here. I expect the next verse will be about TPS reports. Mmm-yeh.
The moral of our sorry tale
Is: sometimes rhymes persist
#stackgate was an #epicfail
I fear it won't be missed
I wish I had a cucumber
And fine sliced white bread too
I'd make the blandest sandwich
Then flush it down the loo.
I'm glad I'm using wholemeal bread
The white stuff's bland and sickly
This boring glow worm needs an end
Please someone do it QUICKLY!
Sorry RoseWare - 1 out of 10 on the interesting scale :)
Portmanteau words are all the rage
Where would brands be without them!
They're everywhere this day and age He started it, miss.
'Cos advertisers shout 'em
I must see my accountant!
The numbers make no sense!
They all appear to be in red
But for this fifty pence.
I wish I were a molecule
Something nice like AYTCH TOO OH
>b>Instead, I'm an electron
And my life is filled with woe.
The wily Questing Beast's afoot
So hide behind the sofa
And if it nears, just raise your boot
But not if it's a loafer.
God particles are hard to find
Without acceleration
But scientists of true heart and mind
Might use exaggeration
I wish I was a Boson-Higgs
E'er since I were a lass
I've always wanted much more weight
To look like like Mama Cass.
[J, P. S, R] I laughed out loud.
I'm glad I'm not a molecule
With too much dipole moment
I'm methane, constituent of farts Glad I'm not the only chemical anorak here.
That's the odorous component
I wish I were a microwave
From space at 3°
I'd get inside your woolly socks
And mutilate your knees
The gamma Higgs neutrinalo
Is mighty hard to find
It makes quick rounds, like a gigalo
And leaves no trace behind
I wish that I spoke physicist
I'm sure it's quite a lark
With acronyms and symbols
Based on the lighter quark*


*Forced ("Flavourful mesons are mesons made of pair of quark and antiquarks of different flavours. The rules are simpler in this case: the main symbol depends on the heavier quark, the superscript depends on the charge, and the subscript (if any) depends on the lighter quark.")
I've got bells that jingle jangle
On my one-horse sleigh Are we in the run-up to Christmas already?
They really get upon my tits
And think of the poor dray.
I wish that I was sozzled
Completely out my tree
Because I cannot bear to face
Enforced sobriety
I wish I weren't so flatulent
I'd have a lot more friends
'Cos my windy smelly ways
Some clearly are not even worth a mercy killing
I wish I could run really fast
Just like that West Indian sprinter
I'd always be first, not last
But my wooden leg would splinter
I wish I could swim really well
Through Heinz Tomato Soup
An Olympian vision of Hell
Backstrokes through crimson goop
Well, now the games are over
And life resumes its course
Get ready for the football
And prepare for a divorce.
I'm sleeping less than well [S,R,K,R] Very nice! Reminds me to be thankful Mrs Tuj and I share a sports addiction
I toss and turn all night Shut up at the back.
I need no waking bell
But then I'm less than bright
If I screw up my eyes and dangling preposition alert
Put on some glasses
This looks like a haiku. Sorry, but I just can't get the previous lines to scan as anything.
Created by asses.
[cfm] Superb last-minute addition. Have a crisp! In fact, have several.

The road outside is melting

To a treacly noisy goo
And now the rain is pelting [cdm] Well saved!
Right, God, I'm going to sue
The weather's not improving
It's staying much the same
There's not much else to talk about
Let's get back to the game.
I wish I were the Lord your God
And not have horns or tail
I'd give you all a healthy prod
To make you weep and wail.
I'm more inclined to devilment
Than angels on my shoulder
Hell's perfect for a barbeque
You'll be there when you're older.
I wonder if the ketchup's hot?
And if the chili's cold [SciR] Excellent.
And are the dogs room temperature
And free of worms and mould.
I wish I were a pearly king
And you a pearly queen
The world would be our oyster then
We're dressed in Crimplene
I wish I had a ticket
To Cleopatra's wedding
The guest list is to die for
The bride, though, is for bedding.
I wish someone had told me
To add some baking powder
My tater-cakes are flat and wet
I'm left with onion chowder sorry sorry sorry - but it's culinarily feasible.
I dropped my iPhone in the pond
It's crossed to cell phone Valhalla beyond
This sounds like a limerick
But we really should stick
To the Haiku of which we're all fond
let's restart:
I dropped my iPhone in the pond
To test the maker's claim
I urge you to do likewise
But I won't take any blame
I wish I had asked Siri
How to marinate pig's feet
To feed to my dear mother
And get her back in heat
The last three lines of this poem
(No, make that the last two)
Extoll both xylem and phloem
(In fact, one line will do)
Apologies for the double post
That last rhyme can't be beaten Oh... *swoons with being so impressed at the last one*
For such exotic flair
It's Heston to my Mrs Beeton
Such verbal skill is rare.
I wish I were a lady
Feminine and coy
Hidden texthaving an identity crisis, Phil?
Cuz lovely, lacy underthings
I can't wear as a boy. Hmm...
Be bold, tear up convention!
Ride roughshod thru' the rules
just throw caution to the wind
And bomb all public schools.
I wish I could be sexy
Without cosmetic ops
The fakes are never quite as good
Beneath those see-through tops
I wear my teddy with aplomb
Other fruits just will not do.
Not greengage, damson, mume or plum
Oh! Too many plums tha' noo!
i wish my apricots were prunes
All wrinkly, black and blue
They get things moving, so they say
Excuse me, where's the loo?
I Wish it weren't so windy
Around my nether parts
A kilt's a rather draughty thing
And helps disperse my farts. oblig.
The Feast of St. Narcissus [Rosie] I set 'em up...
Is a very sombre time
Staring into mirrors
Believing you're divine
My god, but I am awesome
In every single way
But most of all, I'm humble
Whatever people say.
I went to see the doctor
About my indigestion
He said I really oughter
Ask the cook that question.
I went to see the dentist
My gums were red and sore
So he extracted all my teeth
It cost a grand and more.
According to my therapist
I have to face my fears
To banish all my demons
I must kill Wackford Squeers.
I went for acupuncture
Got stung for fifty pounds
The puncturist was quite a prick
And stabbed me out of bounds
I wish my back was better
At lifting kegs of beer
My whistle would be wetter
We'd all have more to cheer. A sad tale
I wish I were an urban fox
Tattered, torn and haggard
Running free through dales and fells
Is not my scene you've gathered
I wish I were redundant
(At least from my employment) We need you. :-)
And with my mighty severance pay We hope
Whole seconds of enjoyment
I so wish it weren't Christmas
Well, it ain't. Not yet.
Ignore it; it'll go away
And you'll stay out of debt
I wish that I were wealthy
I'd chuck the job and go
And shag the arse off Polly Toynbee
Because I love her so
I've just forked out for winter tyres
For soon I will be going
To places where the snow is deep
And the Glühwein will be flowing :o)
New week, new rhyme - or so they say
Whoever they may be
Calliope and all the rest
Are good at poetree
I wish it weren't so frosty
Hidden textI don't really, I love it
My nose has fallen off
And as for other organs
I'm trying not to cough
I wonder if the Mayans
Had ever really thought
About those 'Best Before' dates
And bollocks nonsense of that sort.
The Mayans have predicted tempting fate
The world's about to end
And on the twentysecond
We'll all just spend, spend, spend. Well, why not?
It must be time for beer by now
Or mulled wine at the least
I've waited nearly half an hour
I am a thirsty beast.
Hurrah! The hols are almost here
And I've skived off already (I wish)
I've finished working for the year
And I'm reading Ferlinghetti
I wish I had spent Christmas Day
Working overtime for treble pay
Then with the money I'd defray
(Oops, I mistook this for a limerick.)
The cost of booze in Whitley Bay.
I have a wish for the coming year
It's really rather silly
That I should give up drinking beer
I'd rather lose my willy
I wish I were a Hobbit
With huge and hairy feet
Or p'raps Lorena Bobbit I've considered not playing that line, but I don't think that I should
With a penchant for sliced meat - Let's move swiftly on, while I cross my legs gingerly
I wish I were a cat's eye
I watch upon the road
For the erring motorist
Lest he by Death be mowed.
I wish I were a carrier bag
A proper one, not plastic
I'd bring home the bacon
Now isn't that fantastic?
I wish that Juliette Binoche
Was not mentioned in this ditty
Perhaps a nice recette brioche
Would make this verse more pretty?
The human epiglottis
(Like other epiglotts)
Tucked away behind the scene
To tie your voice in knots
I wish I were a haggis
That runs around the glen
I'd wait till Easter Monday
I'd be safe by then
I'd love to be a rocket
Leaving trails of sparks
Inside my lover's pocket
Lest the spouse do find the marks
I'd love to start a glow-worm
With these brand new jump leads
I'd write of things electric
And whate'er the rhyme scheme needs.
I wish I were a pussycat
With whiskers I would tickle
And flit around from home to home
My love being always fickle.
If I hadn't sent that letter
I would now be Mayor of Chard
If you want to do better
Don't let 'em mark your card
I wish my poems rhymed
Blank verse is so 'de trop*
And lyrics that I've mimed
Don't always scan I know
I wish I were a Brummie
Don't laugh. I really do.
My vowels aren't posh or plummy
But I'd do Shakespeare better'n you
[R, CdM, K, cfm] Splendid.
The windows all need cleaning
The kitchen floor's a mess
But such work's so demeaning
Go get your Mom, I guess
I love procrastinastion
I'll do some more tomorrow
But I'm gripped by vacillation
Have you time to borrow?
If I were an alarm clock
No doubt I'd be resented
But only by vague arty types
With lives unregimented .. had to be done
If I were a carpenter
I'd bang and thump and hammer
And sometimes acshly hit the nail
In the accepted manner
Pheer mai awsom3 h4cking skillz
Defy a wall; it crumbles
I'm not sure where this going
NOBODY expects the—
Oh, bugger.
I wish I were an organ pipe
A 32 foot beast
I'd tremble with the voice of God
My volume much increased
I wish I were a snowman
That's newly sprung in Spring
A pointy root veg for a nose
Another for my thing I believe it is customary to issue a request for an outer garment at this juncture.
I wish I were a mousetrap
With Edam I'd be primed [CdM]
Hidden textExactly the four words I decided not to post, as there's too much Philth in this world already ;-)
A little mouse of Amsterdam
His hunger so mistimed.
Hidden text(Phil) No there isn't.
I'm glad I'm not a milkman
Out in't snow and dark Boreal usage scansion imperative claim.
Slipping on an icy path
Sod that for a lark
[K, R, S, C] Excellent!
Another job I wouldn't do
Is much involved with lobsters
I'd rather take a blood oath
And join a gang of mobsters.
The worst job that I ever had [Rosie?]
Turned both my elbows green
Collecting cat poo was my lot (Kim) I seem to have jumped the gun.
While dressed up like a queen
While working for Jayne Mansfield
I lost a lot of weight
Yanking all those lobsters oblig.
Out of her 'tailgate' What Rosie said
*chuckles*
I wish I were a golf club
Gripped firmly with a glove
I'd swing and swing the wrong way
And hit heads from above.
I'm glad I'm not an Easter Egg
With spring-like obsolescence
Consumed with avaricious haste
I reek now of its essence. ie I'm covered in chocolate
I took a pee while I was doing that. Sorry.
An 'oenelope' is someone who runs off with the wine.
Us isobars are all quite close
We're cooking up a storm
We'll squeeze the air along at speed (Chalky) We pedants are horrified, m'dear.
But will not keep you warm.
I will tell a knock-knock joke
That's sure to split your sides
Knock! Knock! Who's there? Archie
Andrews. And laughter, it subsides.
Three blokes pop in their public house
(A rabbi, a priest and a Scot) That is how the joke goes, isn't it? No?
A fart by one makes t'next one sneeze
And the third shouts out "twot" moving swiftly on ...
Some people really try too hard .. last one was crap in every respect.
Ahem
- Some people really try too hard
- To show they are a wit
They dream up lines of poetry
That somehow don't quite fit
I think the last one needed to conclude in frenzied anticlimax, viz;

Three blokes pop in their public house
(A rabbi, priest and Scot)
Something funny happens then
But I've forgotten what.

[SM] Bravo!
A young man's fancy turns to love
Every seventh minute [Simons Mith] splendidly deft!
And in between he thinks of sex [SM] *applauds* [Rosie] I was thinking of young Archie Mides.
Cuz that's the best part, isn't it?
I wish I were a plectrum (cfm) You're too like edjumacated, innit. (CdM) I can never read your mind, you know.
I'd strum your heart-strings well
Until you fell in love with me
Or taught me how to spell
I'm glad I'm not a rocking horse
They're prone to constipation
But should they strain to make the grade
Then cyclic defaecation. (pen) How do you know?
[Rosie] I've heard that rocking horse shit is very rare. Ergo... they don't go.
I'm glad I'm not a Barbie doll
Inside a plastic box
Though I'd be free from creepy Ken (pen) Sorry, crap logic. Boo-boom.
Who pleasures into socks grabs coat and scarpers
If I were a Lego man Staying with the toy theme
Made up of block and bricks
I'd emigrate to Minecraft world
With crafting box and picks [Rosie] I didn't actually expect anyone to think of Archie Mides; I just thought it wasn't fair to post a knock-knock without some follow-up in mind.
Ben 10 seems quite a cunning chap
With magic watch on wrist
It helps him change his shape at will
But sometimes things get missed. .. no takers for a week. Time to bale.
Have to admit I don't know a lot about Ben 10, apart from the fact that he was on my small nephew's pyjamas a couple of years ago.
Our planning seems in uproar
You can't put that thing there!
It's really not in keeping [Ben 10 - 'an anime character called Ben' was the limit of my knowledge about 'im]
And is messing up my hair. [pen, SM] No problem .. I had to google 'creepy Ken' ^^^ up there.
My mother is a weirdo
My father watches birds
My brother's got a little box
In which he keeps turds Coat!
That's not the Box of Delights!
Sorry, I limericked. Unless someone can find a way to fix it up. The Whoops button would let me change it, but not remove it, so I'm a bit stuck now.
Just start a new one.
I wish that button turned back time
And held the moving finger back (metre variation alert)
I might think of a better rhyme
Or go off on a different tack
I wish I were a mummy
Encased in tiles of jade
On legs and head and tummy
Our sponsorship displayed
I wish it would stop raining
It will, but not just yet
I've mastered aquaplaning
Bifurcating with But wetsuits make me sweat/But sweatsuits make me wet
I wish I had a potting shed
Where I could grow my pot
With grow-lights shining all day long
I'd be stoned as like as not
I wish I had a clematis Chelsea week, innit?
Perhaps a Russian vine
Both of them get out of hand
And bring your dashed fence "dine." Literally true in my case. (pen) No, it was last week we won the Europa Cup:-)
I've overdosed on Hollyhocks
My nose runs like a tap
I have what look like chicken pox
I hope it's not the clap. No way to not do that.
The larkspur is a wondrous sight
The perfume quite sublime
I've doused it all with gasoline
So I can end this rhyme.
I grew a little pear tree
Its fruit was firm and plump
I swapped it for a milk cow
And made a callithump Callithump. n. a noisy boisterous parade.
I wish I were a corkscrew
But with a left-hand twist
I'd bugger up your fingers
And stop you getting pissed oblig.
[pen] I had "And dislocate your wrist" in mind, but prefer yours.
I wish I were left-handed
For then all would be right
Unles you are a little gauche
But gaucher, that's a blight. No it isn't - Je suis left-handed.
If I were ambidextrous
With hammer, saw and chisel
I'd do my work in half the time
Then tell the boss to swivel
I wish I were a swizzle stick
Warm and cozy in some joe
This is really nonsense
So to the bin must go.
I wish I were a drummer
But not like Ringo Starr
More like those chaps from "Kodo"
They're betterer by far.
Nonsense? Why?
http://www.pier1.com/Scroll-Swizzle-Sticks/2691834,default,pd.html?utm_source=Google&utm_medium=PLA&utm_campaign=google_pla&utm_content=2691834&s_cid=pla0000001&kpid=2691834

http://www.snopes.com/language/eponyms/cupofjoe.asp

I wish I had some second sight
Such wisdom I'd display
I'd not need glasses all my life
.. stepping in before game loses all momentum ..
And double my cachet.
When I was but a little lad
And thought that girls were soppy
I'd go and do those boisterous things
While being rather stroppy.
But after I had adolesced
I took things much more seriously
I opened books and aced the tests
And chased the girls ingeniously.
Advancing age has done me well
My knees are holding up
I've still got hair, but time will tell
That my heart needs a tuneup.
I wish I had a bus pass
I'd travel all day long
'Tho I'd have nowhere to go
I'd sing this happy song:

< mode=song >
The sun shines on the dickie birds
The sun shines on the ants
The sun shines on my privates
'Cos I'm not wearing any pants.
[Raak]
Hidden textI had a horrible feeling someone might miss the opportunity. Phew!
*laughs out loud - like, really LOUD*
I wish it were tomorrow night [Phil] If you were worried, how do you think I felt? I chose my line with that fourth line in mind, but I wasn't holding my breath.
Today seems just so dull [CdM] Well done, sir!
But then, I may not make it
Through one more day in Hull. [CdM,Phil] Your humble servant.
I've always liked the circus
Where threadbare lions roar [Raak] And another excellent last line. Would it be tempting fate to say you're on a roll?
From reverie they jerk us (Shuddup at the back over there in the US).
As through our limbs they gnaw
I wish I were upon the beach
Atop a sandy dune
A glass of beer within my reach
And you, my dear, to spoon
If I had a lot of time [S, C, R, p] Aww.
This coyness, lady, were no crime
But hark! Time's chariot hurries near
So let's get on with it, my dear. Sorry, couldn't resist.
If all the seas were suncream
The fish would squirm and splutter
And if the Alps were made of toast
I'd spread them with snow butter
If you and I were ponies
We'd have a trick or two
We'd dance like Darcey Bussell
With fetlocks en tendu
If 2 and 2 made twenty-two
Two twos would make it too
And two ones too, when timesed by two
I don't give a sod, do you?
[SW] Actually I do. Spoilsport. And after your elegant finale to the last one ... :(
If I woke up with great big wings
I'd take a look at higher things it still fits with the rhyme scheme, AABB,
From somewhere in the stratosphere
For I am bold. What matters fear?
I wish I had an ice cold beer [Chalks] sorry, sorry, sorry
To slake my sun-baked thirst
A lovely glass of Budweiser [Now you're upsetting the real ale nuts. :-) Ice cold is how you serve American horse piss, because at 0° you can't taste how horrible it is.]
With CO2 I'll burst. BURP! (SM) Why on earth do people do it?
If you served that ice-cold muck
I'd assume it was a joke
With such stuff I'll have no truck
I'll stick to rum and coke
Happy hour will soon be here
I'll therefore order double
So whiskey whiskey beer beer
And tons of Dubble Bubble
Hidden textoops forgot this
I'm glad I'm not a snowflake
For if I was I'd melt
For all of my uniqueness
Could no longer be felt.
I'd rather be inside than out
And up instead of down
The Burj Khalifa's just the place
To enjoy a meaningless poem that doesn't scan, rhyme, or make any sense.

ahem ..
I'd rather be inside than out
And up instead of down
The Burf Khalifa's just the place
A jewel in Dubai's crown
[Chalky] Well done!
My birthday is over quite soon
Hidden text2 minutes, I believe
And I am still quite sober
I'm in the center of the room
Hidden textWhat was the deal with that last line, Botherer? Chalkly completed that poem quite well! Are you bitter?
Alone until October
Now this one really IS a hotchpotch of dodgy scansion, rhyme & sense :) [Raak & Kagome] Ta
Hidden textKS my apologies, I misread the scansion of your first line as a limerick! It does work as one, if you try hard enough... and I'm often told I'm very trying!
If Botherer had half a brain
The other half being mine
With Chalky's looks, and Néa's books
We'd have a real good time
The child of such a union
Stands very little chance
Of Anglican Communion
Or learning how to dance.
I wish I were a tube train
In tunnels I'd find joy
I lost her there a week ago
Amongst the hoi polloi.
Hidden text"the hoi polloi" is one of those constructions I normally try to avoid, like "PIN Number" and "ATM machine", as "hoi" means "the", but I'll claim poetic licence on this occasion
(Phil) What about "foot pedal" and "safe haven"? :-)
[Rosie] "foot pedal" is ghastly, "safe haven" I don't have such a problem with, as the "refuge" sense appears to be only 800 years old, much younger than the original meaning of "harbour". Distantly related to the Welsh "Aber-", I wonder, even though we both know that means "estuary"?
I'm glad I'm not an omnibus
A-stopping and a-starting (Phil) "Aber" also means "confluence", of which there are many examples. Confirmed by Y Geiriadur Mawr, "The Big Dictionary".
Cruising in polluted fug
With exhaust fumes a-farting.
Were I an oxymoron [Softers, Rosie] I'm wondering whether there is a game to be had out of your discussion.
I'd be so bittersweet [Kim] are you mixing me up with Softers?
With logical emotion
I'd be blatantly discreet. (Phil) I reckon so. (Kim) I don't think it would run very long but could be worth a try.
I'd love to mix a metaphor
In my electric blender
A sumptuous verbal cocktail that
Is the Colemanballs agenda.
C, R, K, R - very splendid. Rhyming, scanning and funning.
A cocktail of artistic styles Don't panic - this can scan & rhyme A, A, B, B
Cubist, batik and tiles If you say so, Miss. *quakes*
Will create illusion
And confusion. Um.
I'm stealing all the openings
And me the scond lines (Softers, Raak) That's quite clerihewish. Shall we have a Clerihew game?
I'll half-inch one 'e' in five
And I'll just issue fines.
I've knocked pen off her perch
And now await her wrath
I'll meet it by yon silver birch - [Rosie] Clearly you're asking the wrong people - I say yes let's!
In ashes and sackcloth
I wish I spoke Hungarian
Bolivian or Urdu
Instead of Rastafarian
Here in Eglwyswrw
Can you confirm it's Thursday?
I've suddenly lost faith
I'll let you know tomorrow
If it comes back as a wraith .. somewhat limited opportunities for a noteworthy Line 4. Sorry.
My thister wath a lithper
They thay that I wath too
Tho I thpeak in a whithper (Chalky) Ahem, thithter.
My thithter thouts through her thoe
Oh FFTh! Thcanthion ruined again :(
*sigh*
Let's try again ..
I find it hard to woll my r's
- My hips are much too stiff
So maybe my new implants
Will make me sound like Cliff Wichard
[Pen] "Move", surely?
With lips as big as Jagger's
And hips like Elvis P
The hands of Paganini
What a sexy freak I'd be!
Autumn leaves are turning brown
Bikini prices coming down
Winter woollies trending up
Then the sodding FA Cup.
I hope I'll rhyme ABAB
Like 'glow-worms' mostly do
I'm not a freakish rhyme, you see
My name's penelope.
A house divided cannot stand
If walls are made of paper
And living in a house of glass
Is not my kind of caper. I seem to have cocked up the last one rather gormlessly.
I'm glad that I'm not Rosie Indeed - I'm amazed you got away with it, frankly :-)
For he's got a girly name [Rosie, Phil] Assumed it was an example of postmodernistic irony ..
His real one? Don't be nosey
That'd spoil his claim to fame
I wish the House of Tudor
Were not so full of beams
Its workmanship is cruder
It comes loose at the seams.
Thus fell the House of Usher
With all-pervading gloom
'Twas worse than Soviet Russia
But filmed - as was 'Khartoum' - which also fell.
[Chalky] I always thought they should make an animated version.
I'm glad I'm not Vince Cable
I really really am
It's sad that he's not able
To plug the cashflow dam
I wish I had an air balloon
I'd fly above your house
Sing love songs like a right buffoon
Until you are my spouse
I hate the thought of housework
It makes me quake with fear
Thank goodness for my Dyson®
And my maid from South Korea. Guffawed at the balloon one - cheers Pen/Phil
I have a pip stuck in my teeth I giggled at the housework one. I'm 50% there.
(That's too much information)
I think it's time for flossing
And a quick expectoration
I wish I were a garden rake Shut up at the back.
A snag-toothed tidier-upper
I'd lie hidden in the grass
A slapstick tripper-upper.
I wish I had a pint of beer
Just like Nigel Farage
I'd drink it down most publicly
There's nowt to disparage Can we stop trying to rhyme things with 'Farage'? It limits the potential of t'rhymes. Ta v much.
When motorists are naughty
I give them one quick toot
And shout "You're doing forty" (pen) I wasn't. First appearance of Mr UKIP in this game.
On the motorway to boot
I wish I were on holiday
Boating on the Kennett
Just sitting back and reading prose
Or scripts from Alan Bennett
If only I were twenty [Rosie] Pen may have been thinking of Mr. Farage's recent appearance in one of the limerick games.
And callow in my ways
I'd dream of lands of plenty
And my many different lays coat!
If I were only forty
I'd be half what I am now
Though not in age, let it be said
I'm just fat - and how!
If I should stumble over
And need help getting up
To hire a crane is rather rude
But sorry - needs must - yup! ... notably few rhymes for 'up'
My waistline is expanding
Oh, what a brave admission
My feet are slow shrinking
With every inch addition
The time has come for action
A fitness plan perhaps
Holds less of an attraction
Than deep-fried bacon baps
I have no time for deadlines
I've better things to do
Like read a book or solve some crimes
Or pop off to the loo
[SM] I genuinely spent over five minutes manfully resisting "loo" and "poo". Congratulations on giving in to your inner schoolboy :-)
I wish I were a toilet roll (Phil) Same here, largely because I thought I'd give you a go. Imagine my disappointment, though SM has valiantly maintained the tradition.
The hard kind, not the soft Oh-er, memories of school
Sitting unused is the goal
So stash it in the loft.
The phoenix' cry is rarely heard Let's try and raise the tone a bit.
A song so cold and bleak
For it is an ornery bird
And someone glued its beak. There's classy ...
I took a class in classic art
I now know Bosch from Dürer
But the paintings in my pantry
Are somewhat more obscurer
Pre-Raphaelite is more my thing
It's simply more expressive
Dante and his art-for-art
And ladies part-undressive
The cubists' art is thus defined:
Abstract with no perspective
Which makes it look less like the real
And more like the subjective.
All art is tosh, I would opine
Except for this piece by Divine
.. are we venturing into limerickese?
[Chalky] My line can swing either way
Raphael, portraying Madonna
With very few garments upon 'er. Sorry, I don't usually double-post, but it seemed right. Also, if you substitute "I'd" for "I would" in the first line, it scans quite nicely.
I wish I were a grease gun
Hidden textBang, bang; you're slippery.
To you nipple I'd be put
I'd keep your bearings running free
With mayhem underfoot
The joy of lubrication
Is lost on all my friends
They much prefer fixation
Of all their bits and ends.
The benefits of friction
Should not be understated
Since rubbing up the wrong way
Can make me quite elated
He recommended traction [Phil] hehe
And an orthopaedic brace [R, p, P] I was thinking about "The use of prophylactics/ being highly over-rated", but didn't want to triple-post.
I had the satisfaction
Next week they hear my case
I came across this thoughtful item and decided to share it with you. It's a lyric from a song by Dory Previn.>
We never stop to wonder
Until a person's gone
We never yearn to know him
Until he's travelled on
[Software] Splendid 4th line. I was expecting something like "Of pummelling his face", but yours was much better :-)
The art of writing lyrics
When all is said and done
Depends upon the music
And the 'Dum-de-dum-de-dum' I think I've got the metre right, even if it's not a perfect rhyme...
[pen] Do you know the Monty Python sketch about Denis Moore? It's apposite.
I'm very fond of lupins
And shrubberies are nice
But best of all are cacti
Distilled and served with ice
My brother is a tailor he's actually a programmer. worked on the 'Halo' game franchise.
He sewed my new blue jeans 'Sun-up Alterations, Zips Mended While-U-Wait'>
My father was a gambling man
Way down in Whitmore Reans
My papa was a preacher man
And so was Billy Ray's
When he stole kisses from me
I was young - it was a phase.
I close my eyes and count
To ten - that was the plan
Alas I fell asleep at six
Finish for me if you can
I wish I were an aardvark
First in the alphabet
Alas I am a zebra
But ahead of the zzxjoanw yet.
Qaanaaq is in Greenland
Its night life must be seen
This requires a microscope
So you must be very keen
I wish I were a chimney sweep
I'd sing 'Chim-chim-chereeee!'
I'd talk in mangled Cockney
And shout "'ello Mary!"
I wish I could be thinner
Say, butyl acetate
Or maybe min'ral spirits
Your shine off I would take
Merry Christmas Everybody!
Good cheer to one and all!
While there's still some hot toddy
Let's drink it 'til we fall!
It's Boxing Day in Canada
They're fighting in the streets
And if a hockey match breaks out
The day will be complete(s)!
I had a little nut tree
I often used to beat it
But it never bore a single nut
I think that I've been cheated.
I wish I were a rain-gauge
Overflowing in a storm
So full I can't contain myself
As I'm not cribriform
I have a little puppy
It loves to play with me
It's scoffed my little guppy
And quaffed my Earl Grey tea.
The Yanks are playing "Super Bowls"
They sometimes touch the ball
They've so much armor (sic) plating
They don't feel pain at all
I wish I were a scaffolder
That leapt from pole to pole
Shunning 'elf'n'safety
But never on the dole.
I wish I were a glazier
'Cos I like playing with putty
Hidden textI'd also buy a football club, if you can call 'em that.
I'd build a pyramid out of glass
Hidden textRosie, they're called *teams.* I do at least know that much about hand egg, er I mean American Football.
Then stop for tea and butty
I wish I were a pot-hole
I'd bugger your suspension
As you splash every passer-by
Increasing local tension
They wish we had more tea cakes
They wish we had more tea
They wish we had facilities
So they could have a wee I bet there's a Japanese word for 'being disappointed with a cafe'`
They wish we opened later
To satisfy their needs
Alas, we cannot cater
To their incessant greeds. Sorry, cafe's closed for lunch.
I wish I were a bookie
I'd gather all your cash
And pay for lots of nookie
Rum, sodomy and lash
I wish I were a seaman
'Cos I can go "Ha - harrrr!"
A salt-encrusted demon
Emerging from the haar
I wish I were an athlete
I'd run or jump or throw
Unless I was in Sotchi
With two toilets in a row
I wish, when I was younger,
I'd done as I was told
Avoided all the sex and drugs
N'eer straying from the fold
I wish that I had listened
To my teachers when they said
The name with which you're christened
You'll be called when you're dead.
Which reminds me of the rhyme:
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead
I never knew your proper name was Heraclitus, Fred.
When I am gone and changed my name [P, K, R, R and R - marvellous. More please.]
I hope I'll be remembered
For all the thing's I haven't done
Not the bodies I've dismembered apols
While I'm alive and kicking
And working as a plumber (pen) Can't stop giggling.
With call-out rates extortionate
And clients ever-dumber
I'll quote three times the going rate
I'll drink my weight in tea
arrow_circle_down
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