Chicken

Chicken

For some it’s finger lickin’ good, 

And tastes nice with some chips, 

The Colonel’s secret recipe, 

Feels spicy on my lips, 

For most it is a Sunday treat, 

As roasting suits it best, 

Cos after chopping all those sprouts, 

I think you’ve earned that rest, 

It’s good to eat in Walkers crisps, 

That yummy crunchy taste, 

But don’t eat all those bags at once, 

It’s not good for your waist, 

And sometimes it’s not just a food 

For insults it can be, 

But as I dared to write this poem, 

I am not one you see.

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.

Scrambled Eggs

Scrambled Eggs

Boiled and poached and scrambled and fried,

Are there some types that you have not tried?

Soldiers with butter, dipped in the yolk,

After the tap the shell you have broke,

Fluffy and yellow and ready to eat,

Topped with some bacon a real nice treat,

We all have our favourites, so let’s take a poll,

To finish this poem well that is my goal,

The scrambled are winners, I must tell you that,

But make them too salty and they shall be spat,

So now at the end we cheer our best dish,

Let’s scramble those eggs dear, this poem’s your wish.

Explanation

I feel I need to write a short explanation for this one, in case you all fear I've gone completely mad. Basically, I was challenged to write a poem about scrambled eggs. I like a challenge, so I did!

Dreams

Dreams

Each and every single night,

Before we go to bed,

The neurons in our little heads,

Jump up and start to spread,

This special troop of little gems,

Tonight they’ll run the show,

For what we really want in life,

The seeds begin to sew,

The visions in these little dreams,

We're not always quite sure,

But hold on tight to something nice

You know there will be more,

For sometimes they are naughty,

And sometimes they are nice,

I hope for you tonight’s will have,

That extra bit of spice.

PhilTube

PhilTube

Descending right down into this great lair,

It's really a shame so much I do care,

The yellow and green in front of my eyes,

The storm in my body brews up and does rise,

Westminster, Embankment to Temple, Blackfriars,

I must remember my mind's just a liar,

The House and the Street and the great Monument,

It's time to go searching, anxiety we hunt,

The tingling, the shaking to just catch one's breathe

Remind myself here that I do not face death,

Just sit it out breathe and let the fear pass,

The person you want reflects in the glass,

It comes to a slow and the station does show,

Be proud of yourself you continue to grow.

Enter Caixaman

Enter Caixaman

Here we are now at upper taxi road,
Adrenaline released and my does she flow,

It's time to go stroll down this old grand Spur,

As my mind and body go into a blur,

Turning left at this white chalk board,

We schedule our beats and bow to our Lord,

Unzip Rockin' Rose comes out of her case,

We pick up the tempo a new funky pace

The orchid's beauty continues to bloom,

As music and laughter they do fill this room.

Love Actually

Love Actually

On ITV,

I shall go check,

So just in cases, 

Ant or Dec,

There's many angles,

To this great flick,

From both sides now,

Best scene just can't pick,

I see those cards, 

My heart does throb,

It's Colin Frissell,

With his big knob,

If ever you feel,

All stuck in a rutt,

Remember there's always,

Beckham's left foot,

So come my dear,

And sit with me,

All of those pictures,

They're all of me.

This film is special,

The rest it's above

The truth is actually

I'm in love.

Christmas

Christmas

The evenings draw in,

The adverts do change,

It's time to move things, 

Your lounge rearrange,

Sat in the corner,

A sparkly lit tree

There's gifts under there,

For you and for me,

The shops fill with people,

They're all in a rush,

The dash to get home,

One final last push,

The morning has come,

It's time to unwrap,

The rustle of paper,

Good food and a nap,

So then comes the evening

It's Christmas TV,

I'll just have a chocolate,

Or two, maybe three,

We've done it again,

That's it for this year,

I hope that for you,

There's been lots of cheer.

My Bride

My Bride

Your beautiful eyes I look into 
Reflecting all my smile,
I hope one day together my love,
We shall walk down the aisle,

I often think about the times,
I'll get down on one knee,

To ask if you will make me happy,
Become Mrs Verney,

Let's clear our minds together now,
And brush the troubles away,

That little sweeping action done
Filled greatness in this day,

There are those notes that get inside
And touch my very soul,

You know my little darling girl
My heart you have now stole,

And when the years have come and gone
And we are old and grey,

I still wake up each morning
Gaze at you and think "wow, yay!".

Explanation

Just some romantic ramblings from me. Just because I'm not involved with anyone at present, doesn't stop me from having musings does it :)

Charli

Charli

As gracious as a girl can be,

But comes Friday now lets us all see,

It's time for her work to come to an end,

Arise this corkscrew reveals a good friend,

The colours tonight shall be red or white,

A matter of time before she speaks shite (sorry :D)

So sit down Charli and adorn your fine onesie, 

It's the weekend now, happy days, just like Fonzie, (come on, you try rhyming with onesie)

Her gingerbread man arrives at her side,

Grumpy perhaps but dotes on his bride,

And now this fab poem must come to and end,

I like having her as my Twitter friend.

Explanation

So, I asked people what I could write for my next poem, two people just said "do one about me". So, I did. This one is for Charli, who foolishly asked for one.

The Passing of Summer 2013

The Passing of Summer 2013

We wondered if,

We'd see your smile,

We hadn't seen you,

For quite a while,

But come you did,

And raise your hand,

On many faces,

The skin now tanned,

For me sometimes,

You were too hot,

But I'm still glad,

You stayed a lot,

You're going now,

That's clear to see,

And it's not nice,

To see you flee,

So when it comes,

This time next year,

Please don't be a stranger,

We like you that's clear.

Explanation

The summer of 2013 in the UK was one of the sunniest and hottest for many many years. After several years of very poor quality summers (even for the UK), we were long overdue, and in great need of a lovely summer. We got one.