Heatwave

Heatwave 

An Azores high

Or a Spanish plume

The heat moves in

A heat wave does loom

The hot sticky nights

The duvet comes off

The pollen goes up

And starts does a cough

We’ve waited for this

Yay summer is here

Well actually no

Want cool to be near

See I’m goldilocks

Need 20 degrees

Above or below

Too hot or I freeze

But when it is gone

And autumn comes in

I sure will be waiting

‘Til summer begins

Explanation

This is another case of someone challenging me to write a poem. Blame the internet. If you want to suggest any to me, just tweet me @philverney.

MH17

MH17

Sitting up high,

And admiring the view,

There aren’t any borders,

Just a beautiful blue,

An inflight movie,

The kids play some games,

The seatbelt sign off,

The pilot exclaims,

So minding your business,

Now seven miles above,

The missile has hit you,

Took from ones you love,

Last moments with just fear,

Not something you deserve,

Your precious life is ending,

It’s something you’ll observe,

And as we know you tumbled,

And sank into this earth,

We’ll make sure to remember you,

And won’t forget your worth,

We’re so sad that you suffered,

And couldn’t say goodbye,

We’ll send you off with pride and grace,

Our hearts you’re still close-by.

Keep the hope

Keep the hope

A lot’s going on in the world right now

That’s leaving us pausing and asking just how

Why we are so cruel and destructive right here

And that thought keeps leaving me shedding a tear

There’s rape and there’s war and there’s hurt and there’s fear

The news rarely leaves us feeling much to cheer

The hope feels just pointless, accept we’re all bad?

Well no I don’t see that, for much to be glad

Cos I see a world where yes there’s some hate

But goodness in droves, just look, we are great

Donations and gifts little things we don’t see

I know that they’re out there, from that I take glee

Remember Love Actually, that quote from Hugh Grant

Love is all around! I think we should chant

So don’t lose the hope, we will make this right

Compassion together will make this world bright.

Kitchen White Goods

Kitchen White Goods

There are some quite odd folk around

Who’ll send me random themes

But let me see what I can write

From fingers words shall stream

A poem about kitchen goods

Those ones are classed as white

I fear my bid to do this well

May end up being shite

For me the freezer is the best

Can store my microchips

Tomato ketchup in my view

The best of all the dips

One thing that tends to bug me lots

That shop known as Selfridges

I just don’t understand at all

Why they do not sell fridges

So wash and dry put clean clothes on

So you don’t smell of sweat

To me becoming normal

Isn’t something that I threat.

Explanation

This is another case of someone challenging me to write a poem. Blame the internet. If you want to suggest any to me, just tweet me @philverney.

The World Cup

The World Cup

Brazil in the year

Two thousand fourteen

It’s touchdown in Rio

For many great teams

There have been so many

Quite glorious saves

Along with a number of 

Mexican waves

The football amazing

So many great goals

And caused by that Suarez

In skin there were holes

And awesome fab players

Like Messi and Neymar

But ones like Tim Howard

Who weren’t on our radar

On Sunday the final

We shall learn who’s best

Well done to Brazil

You’ve sure passed the test

Lions

Lions

If you are on lithium

Then Lion you are

I like science jokes

Be brave like a star

They prowl the savannah

Find tea for their cubs

The name of a lion

Found in many pubs

A fair lonesome creature

Not found making friends

Unless you shall go

To the zoo, tigers blend

Some zoos are quite plenty

Just see what you’ll spy

There’s lions and tigers

And bears, well oh my

So Charli, your poem

‘Bout lions it is

And reference to Dorothy

That wind it did whiz

Explanation

This is another case of someone challenging me to write a poem. Blame the internet. If you want to suggest any to me, just tweet me @philverney.

Wimbledon

Wimbledon

So JazzyChick on Twitter, she has challenged me

A poem ‘bout Wimbledon, she has asked to see

She made the suggestion, to try a few rhymes

With the players names, it’s hard, near bedtimes

The winner today, Novak Djokovic

Near two million pounds, he’s better off, rich

On Saturday we saw, the winner Kvitova

Who did play in style, the net she hit over

And poor Andy Murray, knocked out far too soon

Nadal, number two, over him women swoon

The All England Club, is a highlight for tennis

For I prefer running, so I’ll watch Miss Ennis

Explanation

This is another case of someone challenging me to write a poem. Blame the internet. If you want to suggest any to me, just tweet me @philverney.