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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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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
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