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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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!

Running the line ...

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

And then become her chum

I wish I were a conker (Softers) This has happened to me in the past. It is Not Good.

A hundreder at least

With n'eer a dent upon me

I'd slay the slimy beast!

I wish I were a croûton

Dunked in hot onion soup

From then I'd become soggy

And lost in all the gloop.

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