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Best Poems Written by John Wilmore

Below are the all-time best John Wilmore poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Death of the Dinosaurs

The day the asteroid arrived the dinosaurs were playing,
With toys and bats and balls and things, some dancing jigs and swaying.
Young Betty Brontosaurus was renowned for being dim,
She was running on a treadmill in her Speedos at the gym.
“Oh dear!” she cried. “Look out the window, what’s that in the sky?”
“An asteroid” said Terry Rex, “I think we’re going to die!”
“What, all of us?” cried Betty; “don’t you think that’s pessimistic?
I’d better put my makeup on, mascara and some lipstick.
I’ll need to look my best for when the paramedics come”.
Said Terry, “Paramedics? Oh my goodness, aren’t you dumb!
The asteroid is going to crash, the earth will become stark!
Huge tidal waves will drown us and the planet will go dark.
We all will die, believe me, paramedics won’t survive,
So call your friends to warn them that they’re doomed, while you’re alive.”
“Oh Terry, don’t be such a wimp!” said Betty with disdain,
“It’s just a little rock that’s falling, nothing worse than rain!
I’ll call my friends to tell them that umbrellas are a must,
But only ‘cos a rock is going to crash and raise some dust.”
So Betty got her cell phone out to call her favorite pals.
Her best friend, Flossie Raptor, was playing tennis with some gals.
“Hey Flossie!” Betty said, “I need to warn you, something’s weird.
An asteroid is going to crash and Terry Rex is scared.
He thinks that we’re all going to die, but it’s a joke, I bet.”
“Hang on a sec” said Flossie, “I’m in the middle of a set.
We’re winning forty love, break point, I’ll call you when we’re done”.
“Oh, pardon me”, said Betty, “I didn’t mean to spoil your fun”.
Poor Betty Brontosaurus was distraught; she wept for hours.
They never asked her to play games, or go to baby showers.
Perhaps the reason was that she was huge and couldn’t manage
To go just about anywhere without her causing damage.
“I’ll show them” Betty said “I won't warn them about the rock,
Without umbrellas, dust will sting their eyes, they'll get a shock!”
So Betty didn’t warn her friends, the asteroid came crashing.
The sky went dark, the oceans boiled, and lightning was a-flashing.
Poor Betty didn’t stand a chance, and neither did her friends.
And Terry Rex’s bottom leaked all over his Depends.
The dinosaurs all snuffed it, all at once, and all together.
They are no longer with us. Yes, they’re gone and it’s forever.
So, now you know the story of a few of their last hours.
They weren’t as fierce as people think. They liked to smell wild flowers,
And play and dance and sing and stuff, they didn’t kill and maim.
But I think we’re kind of glad they’re not around us just the same!

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019



Details | John Wilmore Poem

Ode To the Cotswold Hills

The Cotswolds are a bunch of hills in rural England's heart
They're green and rolling, full of sheep that frolic, bleat and fart.
People come from far and wide to hike the Cotswold Way,
And from Bath to Chipping Campden lovely views enhance their stay.
The villages and towns each have a unique English charm,
And when the sun shines on those hills there's joy on every farm.
The cows and pigs and chickens temporarily forget their fate,
That tomorrow or the next day they'll be on somebody's plate.
The dry stone walls meander through the fields o'er hills and dales,
And from the very top you can unluckily see Wales,
A country full of Welshmen waving leeks and daffodils,
Who sing too much and abuse their sheep amongst their rugged hills.
I'm digressing, it's the Cotswolds that’s the topic of this ode,
There's beauty round every corner of each winding country road.
So when in England, to the Cotswolds drive without delay,
You won't regret it, honestly, you'll love it every day.
My buttocks both rejoice whene'er those hills come into view,
I love those gorgeous Cotswolds, and I know that you will too.

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

Details | John Wilmore Poem

Carol Crocodile

Carol is a crocodile with big long pointy teeth,
She likes to hide in lakes under the surface, just beneath.
She doesn’t want to bite your legs or eat you in one chew,
She only wants to sneak up close behind you and shout “Boo!”

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

Details | John Wilmore Poem

Alf the Dinosaur

“Alf it’s dinner time!” cried mum as she finished off the cooking.
“Where is that naughty boy?” she moaned, “I’d better go a-looking”
She looked across the lawn and he was nowhere to be seen.
He was hiding, lying in the grass because he is bright green.
Alf chuckled to himself because he never would be found,
But up crept mum and tapped his bum as he lay upon the ground.
“You didn’t see me coming!” said Alf’s mummy with a grin.
“I’m green too, you silly boy! Now come on, let’s go in.”

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

Details | John Wilmore Poem

Hairy Norah the Elephant

Hairy Nora reads the Torah from daybreak until dusk.
She’s got four different colored legs, but not a single tusk.
There’s a birdie sitting on her back that moves and sways like Elvis,
Her ears are crinkly when they’re pressed and there’s a mirror on her pelvis.
Now I’ve been almost everywhere on my old rusty bike,
But an elephant like Nora, I have never seen the like.

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019



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Cookie the Cat

Cookie can cook recipes from a book,
She can rustle up meals in a flash.
She wears a chef’s hat even though she’s a cat
And she works in a restaurant for cash.
Once Chef Cookie cooked all the fish I had hooked
While out fishing with Oli one day.
She fried them in batter, served them up on a platter
And we scoffed them all up right away.

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

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Mayo the Rabbit

Mayo the rabbit has a very strange habit,
but he isn’t a monk or a nun.
He spreads out on ham, lettuce, cheese, bacon, spam
that’s been sliced up and placed in a bun.

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

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Carlos the Chameleon

Carlos the chameleon likes to wave at passersby,
But none of them wave back at him which makes poor Carlos cry.
He stands there by his house and waves as loudly as he can,
They all ignore him, that’s not fair, he doesn’t understand.
It’s not that they don’t like him, yes he’s loved by one and all,
But none of them can see him ‘cos he blends in with the wall.

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

Details | John Wilmore Poem

Fishing With Oliver

One day while fishing on the bridge,
I hooked a gorgeous speckled trout,
Reeled it in and pulled it out,
Carried home, stored in my fridge.

The trout it was prepared next day,
Two large filets cooked and eaten,
Flavor intense could not be beaten
By any chef, no how, no way.

With spinach green, tomatoes red,
Sautéed perfection in olive oil,
Potatoes piping from the boil,
A perfect meal left us well fed.

A glass of wine, a Pinot Gris,
Washed down the food with complement,
The nose? Fresh flowers, a lovely scent,
Pure vintage, two thousand and three.

Relaxed, forgetting all our sorrow,
After such a sumptuous dish,
I long to catch another fish,
To the bridge again, perhaps tomorrow.


2/3/2019 - Enclosed Rhyme Poetry Contest - Emil Pinet

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2019

Details | John Wilmore Poem

Chinese Dave

Chinese Dave is not Chinese, he just likes Chinese food,
He’ll eat it till his tummy bursts when he’s in the mood.
He scoffs Chow Mein and Egg Foo Yung and Fried Rice by the plateful,
And then his botty coughs. Oh dear! Stand back! You will be grateful.

Copyright © John Wilmore | Year Posted 2021

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Book: Shattered Sighs