mc5 - Pea and Honey Recipes

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Pea and Honey Recipes

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I Eat My Peas With Honey
And tales of derring-do.
Four lines, they can be rhyming
(That's Glow Worms to me and you).
Ending line is as usual.

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But 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

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