mc5 - Pea and Honey Recipes

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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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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 text

Softers 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

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