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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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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
Unmindful of the scalding
Surroundings that I've got
If I could walk a silly walk
I'd join the Ministree
I'd hop and lurch and high-kick twice
And still not spill my tea
I'm glad I'm not a pollster
Like Gallop, YouGov, Mori
My prediction would be iffy
And punters would be sorry
I wish I was a baritone
Unlike say, Elton John
Then I'd seem more manly
When taking on the Don
I wish I were Mount Everest
Five miles high and more
My lofty heights are tempting
But your legs won't half be sore mercy killing
I wish I could show mercy
To all my enemies
But I like the feel of power
To see them begging on bent knees
I wish I were a blender Blender, I said.
Filled up with lentil soup
I'd whizz and whizz and whizz and whizz
Spinning leguminous goop
I'm getting very lazy
I put it down to age
I think much more before I do
Because my bird escaped its cage.
I drank a Bloody Mary
I won't do that again
It was full of tomato juice
Alas, it had no gin.
I wish it would stop raining
Assuming a missing line
penelope - I wish it would stop raining
Software - My hair is getting wet
That damp-dog odour follows me
I smell just like a pet!
I wish I were a business card
So slick like Fonzarelli
I'd hand myself out at the pub
Too bad they're watching telly
I wish I were a vuvuzela
Buzzing all day long
'Twould even kill Methuselah
Can so many be so wrong?
I wish I were on holiday
Amidst the snowy peaks
Alas I am in Basingstoke
Amidst the yobs and freaks
I like my pies with gravy
Deep fried with mushy peas
Gastronomic'lly I'm cheap
And not difficult to please
I wish I'd put yeast in my dough
My bread has gone all flat
Can water possibly make it grow?
Nah ... Let's stuff it with fat!
Now tear along the dotted line
At sixty miles an hour
Veer not to either left or right
Just go straight full power.
I wish I were a football match
Shown on ITV
With ad breaks for consumer goods
The money'd go to me!
We play the vuvuzela with
With England on our mind
Just add a swannee whistle and
(Anyone for a swannee-vuvuzela performance?)
And you'll go deaf and blind    Wait. "Swannee whistle" is a euphemism, right?
I wish I were a scarecrow
Standing in a sunny field
I'd buy all the suntan lotion
Until everybody peeled!
The poppy fields are my domain
They earn me quite a packet
So I'll defend them might and main
Against a Cosa Nostra racket
I wish I were a football
Just kicked around by all
Except, that is, the England team
Or that of nearby Gaul.
A football should be round and firm
Just like an apricot
Which should be sweet of taste in turn
– Reject it if it's not
I was sort of hoping for "Just like a football's not".

I wish you'd never shown me
How not to kick that ball
Then I'd not have played for England
And come home with f*ck all .. moving swiftly on ...
I wish I were a clothes peg
Clamped tightly on your knickers
A freshening breeze blows up your leg sorry sorry sorry
Quite startling passing vicars
American Football's what Charlie Brown would play
But the ball he would kick is shaped more like an egg
But Gordon Brown played rugby with an oval ball bit clunky, this
And Lord George-Brown would never budge from square leg. "Many modern poems are like bells of lead. They should tinkle melodiously, but usually they just klunk." (Dunsany) Can we tinkle a little more melodiously, please?
I wish melodious tinkles would
Less often splash the seat [irach] That's what you were angling for, isn't it?
But sitting isn't manly
When your trochees touch your feet
I wish I were a radio mic
Attached to Gordon Brown oblig.
Then I could let the whole world know
Why governments fall down mercy
I wish my suitcase would come back
From far-off Timbuktu
Alas, its British Airways - from bitter experience
So my bag's now in Peru
I wish I'd never mentioned
My girl-friend to my Mum
As now she wants to meet her
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