Heatwave

August hols are here, and we’re hoping for some sun,
families have fled to foreign fields for some fun,
leaving us alone in our lovely Great Britain,
with half empty highways, and dull days in the rain.

Soon as they swanned off, the sun came out to play,
and it happened to get hotter here ev’ry day.
We hardly have rainfall ‘cept in a sudden storm,
during our heat wave, which we now know as the norm.

Dazzling dusty days spent in hot and humid heat,
as we walk our way to work down the stifling street.
Bodies barely breathe in our horrid hot office,
a faltering filtering fan just can’t suffice.

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London 2012 Opening Ceremony

 Underworld – Caliban’s Dream Youtube video tells most of the story
of how Great Britain excelled herself this year in all her glory.
London Twenty Twelve opening ceremony went without a hitch,
unlike the early mix up of the Korean flags on Cardiff’s football pitch.

Two hundred and four countries entered their Olympic team
of hopeful young atheletes hoping to achieve their lifetime dream.
Never before has anyone witnessed such a magnificent scene
depicting Great Britain’s events in recent history that there have been.

Our Great British humour just had to take a big part
as James Bond helped our Queen “parachute” in for the start,
then as our music was played by orchestral string
our Mr Bean was on the piano, doing his thing.

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Ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding, ring-a-ding

After a physically draining few days
of the great British summer heat,
I awoke on my sofa at seven a.m.
still in my clothes, shoes on my feet!

My T.V awoke me as it turned itself off –
one gets used to sleeping with noise
but silence penetrates the brain
more than the comforting sounds of a voice.

Was it to late to get into my bed?
I wondered as I staggered up,
perhaps I should make some coffee
to sup from my favourite cup.

I turned back on the TV just in case
there was some exciting news,
not that I wanted to hear of disasters
or of someone’s political views.

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Wimbledon Fortnight

It’s here again for another two weeks –
a fortnight of bliss for the tennis freaks.
Now will the weather hold out I wonder
or will the heavens be torn asunder?

And will our Brits last out ‘til the next week?
Of our Andy I hardly dare to speak.
We’ll hold our breath each and every match,
as they all struggle on, while we all watch.

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