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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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Once, I winked at a poet
I bet it were Ian MacMillan
I wondered how you'd know it
As he's not exactly thrillin' sorrysorrysorry
I wish I were a drawing pin
Dropped point-up on the floor
I'll lurk there 'til your unshod feet
Learn what a pin is for.
The Purpose of the Noble Pin
[cfm] More good stuff! The pin and the Lysistrata ones are two of my recent favorites.
Is simple to explain:
It pricks, it pierces, burrows in
To produce instant pain
They tried to pin it on me
And I gave a girlish shriek
As my plasma went free
I started feeling weak.
I started Monday morning
With a song apon my lips
By Friday afternoon at 5
'Twas settled on my hips.
My bagpipe playing will improve
Whenever I quit smoking
I put a gasper down each drone (gasper n. cigarette)
The Scots, they think I'm joking.
[i, cfm, SM, R] Very satisfying, that last one - because of use of the word 'gasper', and also because of the cruelty to bagpipes.
It's all done, bar the shouting
And even that's diminished
So, when you're done with pouting
this rhyme, they say, is finished.
I'll raise a glass to one and all
A worthy toast it is
To this quite splendid cannonball
A long draught of Bucks Fizz
My first appears in sun and rain - solve the word puzzle - can we make this work?
The next in ears and nose.
My third in fourth but not in fifth
My fourth in drawers not hose
The time to buy some posher plonk (crossing over from the limerick game here)
Is the time when you have money
Then with winish snobbery
Serve it mixed with honey (I don't like them dry wines)
'Twas on a bright September morn
When I met my true love
But then the teacher caught us
As I began to shove Coat!
I wish I were the author
Of some fine erotic verse
I'd win you -- first with subtle rhymes
Then something more perverse
There's something big and hairy there.
Rebekah Brooks it is
She shares a hairdo with Shaun White
When it rains, it tends to frizz
I wish I had completed
What I set out to do
Alas, I was defeated
By black magic and voodoo
I wish I had a flower pot
To place upon my roof
Amongst the tiles and slates, it's bloom
Would brighten, fade, then...poof!
I wish the zombie at my door
Would kindly bugger off
He visited me once before
And all my brains did scoff
:^)
I have a small confession
'bout a weakness that I have
I have sworn off the repression
But deep down I'm just a chav.
I wish that I was ten feet tall That zombie one was excellent =)
I'd look down on the throng.
Then they would look up at me
And dangle from my thong
I called and left a message
That said please call me back
I guess you didn't hear it
Or you've given me the sack
I wish I were a sack of spuds
Wilja, Queens or Roosters
Producing enough biofuel
To launch two rocket boosters
I wish I was on top of things
I'd be a happenin' dude
My minions toiling down below
Would be completely screwed
I wish I had a bushy beard
I'd stroke it thoughtfully
And in it I'd collect stale food
For when there's naught for tea.
I wish I had a fine moustache
To hide my crooked lip
I wouldn't fake with chimney ash
In case my nose did drip
I wish I had big sideburns on we go...
Like 'Elvis mutton chops'
I'd wag them fiercely in your face
Until you called the cops.
My blue suede shoes are rather tight
My sparkly pants are, too
My hips are arthritic now
But Hound Dog, I love you
Oh, to live with floppy ears
Like HRH the heir
Which makes no sense to most of us
So shall we leave it there?
Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.
Mother's watching, you see.
The scansion is just hard, there, and it seems to have stalled us. May I offer a slight rewrite?

penelope: Let's have no nonsense. Careful now.

cfm: Mother's watching us.

CdM: So take it easy, Mrs Peel

Get it done - no fuss
I need some information
That is hid in antient tomes
It's all about the height of dwarves
And religious views of gnomes.
If I was blessed with hindsight
I'd know my bum was clean
Alas, I'm no contortionist
And so it goes unseen
The trouble with solicitors
Hang on, where do I start?
My phone is ringing off the hook
It rings each time I fart.
I wish I were a carpenter
You'd see that I can saw
I'd take out my nice big tool
And drop you through the floor assuming it's a wooden floor
I wish I were a foolish maid Brains? What are they good for? They only get you into trouble and create more work.
A-milking foolish cows
Flirting with a scurvy knave
And more, as time allows.
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