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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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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
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