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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 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:
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