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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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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
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