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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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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
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