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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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When the Northern Sea gets stormy
And the fishing boats are tossed
The humpback whales start singing
As the the cod find to their cost.
I wish I were a trawlerman Welcome back, Rosie
Battling the icy waves
But I am a much smaller man
A youth who rarely shaves
I wish these piranha lacked teeth
So they would not scan so badly
While swimming by the Barrier Reef
And masticating madly.
The way to treat a gentleman
To keep him on his toes
is to tap him on the shoulder
And recite some bawdy prose
A common chap, it must be said
Stands firm upon the ground
A baseball cap atop his head
His belly large and round.
A man with just a bit of class (or class, depends on where you're from as to how you say it)
Beats a man who just has none
He'll play down his credentials
But you'll know that you've been done
I wish I were an aardvark oblig.
Munching down on yummy ants
Instead I'm just a card shark
Five aces in my pants
I wish I were a kinkajou
It's such a cutesy word
The carcajou is just passé
A wolverine, I've heard.
Among the forest, lives something
Hidden textIt seems that sometimes when people try to rhyme the 1st and 3rd lines, the poems don't scan and they forget that the 2nd and 4th lines should rhyme.
With twenty thousand eyes
But the twenty thousand cataracts
Cause twenty thousand styes
The telly has a broken screen
The rain drips through the roof
There's dry rot in the window frames
And mildew on the pouffe
I wish I had a winning line
For my football pool do they still have those?
I'd keep my secret to myself
And count my cash, and drool.
I've bloody won the jackpot!
In my office sweep
I got the winning ticket
The prize? A blow-up sheep :-(
My di-ri-gi-ble ovine
Gives me a lot of fun
Confusing all the sheepdogs
Sensors (please excuse the pun)
Yesterday was my birthday
The 27th one
Everybody ate lots of turkey
And learned how to write Glowworms
I wish I could knit sweaters
Or even crochet scarves
My bottom might not be so cold
I'll not do things by halves
This trend for shortening player's names
Deserves a special mensh
It makes me an Egyptian god
But I am still a wench.
I feel like I'm a little Greek
Mine suits my occupation
This looks much more malible
But I'm just a negation
Run down and slightly suspect
And suffering with acid
I'm not in my element
And not much good when flassid
I wish I were in Lapland
With Santa and his reindeer
I'd take a curing water bath SO looking forward to the rhyme match on the last line ...
To get rid of this pain, dear
It seems quite elemental
To measure stuff by hand
But in case of more precision
Use a rubber band!
For a pet, I want a unicorn
A griffon or centaur
I shun such things as pussy cats
They leave me wanting more
I wish I were a shovel
In a brawny stoker's hand
Feeding hungry furnaces
Ah! Wouldn't life be grand!
I wish I were a Christmas pud too early?
Made by Blumenthal
Maybe I'd taste really good
If made in the fall!
It seems the snow has cleared at last
Or turnèd into slush
Both arms, one leg in plaster cast
Take heed: on ice don't rush!
The honeymoon is at an end
A split is on the cards
He caught her in the bellboy's arms
Drinking pints and yards Nice pub, the Bellboy's
It seems we never take a break
From standing on our feet
Except when we are lying down
Felled by the icy street
I wish I were an asteroid
Careering round in space
Waiting to be named after
One of the human race
I wish I were a reindeer
I'd rein in all the deer
I'd put vermilion on their snouts
And a tail-light on their rear.
I wish that I had Santa's sack
Full of Christmas goodies
I'd give those reindeer all a smack bah humbug
Like ASBO-worthy hoodies.
I'm flippin' sick of Christmas
How sick? That's so polite!
I've upchucked all my cookies
On Giertrud - out of spite
I wish I were a bottle
Of moonshine or poteen
I'd upchuck all my stomach contents
And turn dear Spangle green.
Hidden textRevenge, sweet revenge.
It's now two-oh-eleven
You had said half-past-eight
On this stairway to heaven
I hate it when you're late.
I wish I were a blowlamp
With a single fiery eye.
Whate'er I looked at would burn up
And in-stan-tally die.
I forgot to wear my underwear
Commando by default
Mercy killing I'm hopeless and I'm childish
A clueless simple dolt
I cannot make the meeting
I'm running rather late
Leaves on the line at Coulsden
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