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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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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
arrow_circle_down
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