These words are the property of clever people. I'm just trying to put them in order.

Raining champion.

Someone set fire to the forests,

Someone set the animals alight,

They must have been a coward,

As they’re hiding out of sight. 
The fire it burnt on the coastline,

It burned its way to the sea,

It burned its way on inland,

But it didn’t get to me.
Three months or so without a drop,

Made the fires spread much faster,

But now they’re out, the rain is back,

To live happily ever after.


Lady Smiles.

In a far away land is a lady,

Who makes the whole world smile,

She holds up the sun,

When they’re feeling glum,

And makes them laugh like they’re just a child.

Smiles for miles.

There’s a feeling I get in my face,

When we’re laughing all over the place,

They call it a smile,

You can see it for miles,

And it travels with lightning speed pace.

13 questions 

Who’s this? What now?

Who’s stolen my shoes?

Is there a lizard in the race? 

Or is it a rabbit painted blue?

Will they win?

Whoever knows?

Will they stop the crowd as it grows?

Who’s this?

What am I?

Did I do a terribly good job?

Will I do more commentary?

Don’t you think I should probably stop?

Toilet and trouble.

A man sat on the toilet,

And forgot why he was there,

He spent so long,

To try and remember,

That he lost all of his hair.

An ‘ell of an elephant.

‘That’s an ‘ell of an elephant!’

The cockrach exclaimed, 

And just moments later, 

She found she’d been maimed.

Welcome Gizmo.

Is it a dog?

Is it a mouse?

Is it a pokemon,

Who runs round the house?

No his name’s Gizmo,

He’s a speedy Chihuahua,

He likes socks and biting,

And making a palaver.

He chases himself,

But hides from his reflection,

I think maybe he’s mad,

On closer inspection.

He eats all my shoes,

And hides all my socks,

That tiny young mischievous,

Mexican fox.

He might just be mad,

But then so am I,

So I won’t point my finger,

As he’ll just bite my eye.

Happy birthday Juan!

A good man once asked me,

‘We’ve got this far, 

Why shouldn’t we go inside?’

I had no answer to give him,

From his logic I couldn’t hide.

So we entered the building,

Filled with beauty and paint,

From less, there’ve been men,

Who’ve been known to just faint.

He taught me to leave the house,

Even on rainy days,

To go outside and be alive,

Whether the skies are blue or grey.

Creative block

A creative block is not made out of concrete,

More likely it’s made out of butter,

You left it out, overnight,

Now you can’t help but start to stutter.

The heat has left the pieces, 

You previously put together,

Melted all over the marmite,

Thanks to the rise in warmer weather.

Butter is great when it works,

But harder to use when a mess.

Panic may strike, and it’s tempting to worry,

Butter needs to stay cool, and so should you,

Get it back in the fridge in a hurry!

My pocket has been eaten.

My pocket’s dissolved,

I assume it’s been eaten,

By the fleas who live on my leg.

I wish they’d just flee,

How happy I’d be,

If I could carry my keys there instead.