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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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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.
I wish I was in England just got off the ferry from Hull this morning and feeling very foreign here again - but managed to use my clumsy Dutch to ask for change to use the car wash - hurrah!
Drinking brown English ale
Watching cricket in the rain[pen] you found someone in the Netherlands that doesn't speak English! Spraken het Netherlands has corrupted your grammar, surely it is subjunctive when one wishes ;o)
And reading The Daily Mail who lives in the United States!
I wish I were made of purple taffeta
All shiny and crisp on the outside, lined with pink satin I'm not sure what metre this is...some sort of pentameter it seems, in a mixture of iambs and amphibrachs
I would look just like Liberace
With a flouncy bag to put my hat in And now, back to normal...
I wish it was steak pie tonight Sausages tonight. Steak pie on Thursday but I'm stewing it now and it smells delish... freezer full of imported English food, y'see
Instead it's bloody sausages A rhyming challenge, but it was forced, really.
But with onions and mash (CdM) Yeah, forced. Chips? I dunno.
I minimise my lossages.
I wish I were in Camelot
With Arthur and his pals
I'd ride a steed and lance a lot
Of the "purty" gals.
I wish I were a cola
Instead, I'm Panda pop
I'm not the drink, I'm the game!
And my scansion seems to drop
My fizz and sparkle all leached out
Upon these barren shores
So back to Ramsgate I must sail
And clean my facial pores!
I wish that flotsam didn't float
And jetsam would just sink
But water, it is just too dense
Though fish ne'er touch the brink!
I wish I were a hosepipe
But not while there's a drought
I like to spout, not dribble
And wear my knickers inside-out!
My water-butts are all quite full
Of slime and rotting leaves
So into it you thus must luzz
Wot a tangled ryme we weaves!
There isn't time to start the day
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