Home » Poems » Best » Ronald D Thompson » Best Ronald D Thompson Poems

Best Poems Written by Ronald D Thompson

Below are the all-time best Ronald D Thompson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Hope

In this day and age, when happy seems vacant
Where people’s hopes appear forever distant,
It’s the little things that see you through the day
Often it seems, in the most trivial way.

A simple smile might spice up your day
Maybe an ‘hello’, said in a friendly way
Or a driver, who lets you pull out in front,
Or the boss who’s ill, you would normally confront.

To stumble across a coin, when you’re stony broke,
Bump into an old friend, when it’s years since you spoke,
Receive some flowers, right out of the blue
Or complete the crossword you thought you could never do.

Wake up with the thought - ‘it must be Monday’,
Only to then realise, actually it’s Sunday, 
Or a kiss from a loved one, with an ‘I love you’
There’s no greater act that anyone can do! 

It’s the little things that can give you hope
A gentle ‘pick me up’ when it’s hard to cope.
Whatever it is, that brightens your day
We must conclude- ‘it’s surely gods way!!’


Hope Poetry Contest
10th February 2022
Sponsored by - Mohan Chutani

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Snotty Nose

Is this just a curse that follows me around?
For I’m only five years old, three feet off the ground,
Playing inside or out, I get the sniffles bad,
I wish this was a nose I never had!

I sniffle all day, as the green slime grows,
Where it comes from? Nobody knows.
I wipe the snot on my right shirt sleeve,
It gives me somewhat of a temporary reprieve.

My mum wipes my nose with a man size tissue,
Pinching my nose hard, as if it’s a big issue.
‘Now play outside and be sure to wipe your nose!’
She says as the snot continually grows!

The slime forms on my lip, it’s sweet to taste,
Best that I lick it off, shouldn’t go to waste.
Will I ever get rid of this horrible grime? 
Or will I always be saddled with this yucky slime.

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Table Manners

I don’t know about you but I think it right
That kids should eat at the table, most every night.
Sit down with mum, sit down with dad
For these are the best memories you’ll ever have.

There will come a time and it creeps up fast,
When past days are gone, for they never last
When you will wish those days were back
When there is something in your life, you will forever lack. 


It had been tradition, it had always been
But today at mealtimes children are never seen
They sit with their takeaways on their lap
Whilst the video games will, their attention sap!

And these days parents are forced to compete
With mobiles phones as their offspring tweet
For conversation at mealtimes may well be lost 
And the lack of table manners will be the cost!!

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Through Your Eyes

Through your eyes

Is the sky blue and the grass green?
It has to be because I’ve seen.
But your green might be my blue, 
I’m sorry that just wouldn’t do.
If the sky you see is my red,
I think I’d lie down in my bed. 
What if your grass is my pink?
I’d have to say that would stink!
Pink grass and red sky,
Dear oh dear, I’d surely die!
I’m glad my blue is my blue,
As far as I’m concerned that will do.
And I like my grass the green I see, 
For how else could it ever be?
Don’t want to see through your eyes,
Just might scare me with surprise!

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

The Shopping List

It’s all of three feet long, in order it is not,
And then there’s all the other stuff she’s probably forgot,
The first thing on the list, it simply just says, ‘beans’,
Is that broad beans, baked beans, whatever does she mean?

Next is the marmalade, there’s a hundred in the store,
And if I get it wrong she’ll say, ‘it’s the one I had before!!’
There goes another ping, it’s the fifth message to date,
‘Don’t forget the milk’ it reads, ‘if you can accommodate?’

Next it is the bread - brown and white and crust,
With a helpful little note saying, ‘the thickness I’m not fussed!’
But the note that takes the biscuit states, ‘get something for tea!’
Now is that for the both of us or possibly just me?

Course the final item on the list takes me back to the first aisle,
It’s another lengthy trip, so far I’ve clocked a mile. 
I reach the checkout desk and there goes another ping,
It says ‘tomato sauce, oxo cubes and a pack of chicken wings.’

The checkout girl senses, my frustration and dismay,
By honestly enquiring, if I’m having a good day,
But I look at all the stuff she is bleeping at the till
And wonder how, with three bags, I’ll ever fit it in! 

At home comes the inquest of each item I have bought,
And all items not listed, I’m well and truly caught!
The marmalade is wrong, the butter isn’t light,
But think I’ve done quite well as it’s fifty percent right!

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Why Am I So Cold Dad

‘Why am I so cold dad, the cold I cannot cut?'
‘Well it’s snowing really hard son and icy underfoot.’
‘But my brothers and my sisters, it doesn’t bother them,
so why am I so cold and from where does all this stem?’
‘I wouldn’t really worry son but I couldn’t say for sure,
at the moment as far as I’m concerned there’s no specific cure!’
‘But why am I so cold dad it really isn’t fair?
I shouldn’t be this cold dad for I’m a polar bear!’

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

My Humbug Melts Away

Here we go again,
I’ll have to count to ten,
It’s Christmas time once more,
Christmas songs ‘n every store.

It’s bound to cost a mint
It’s gunna make me skint
And all for just one day
Please make it go away!

The wife’s all in a tizz
I’ve forgotten the Buck’s Fizz 
And the Christmas tree’s not right
Not straight when it’s upright. 

And the Garland I’ve just bought
She tells me is too short 
And the lights are on the blink
Got to find that dodgy link.

The supermarket’s crammed,
The car parks are all jammed,
And the sprouts have gone amiss
Cannot cross them off my list!

But I do this every year
Trying to find the Christmas cheer
It seems a waste of time
But by New Year I’ll be fine. 

Then my granddaughter comes knocking
Wants to see her Christmas stocking
Then she reads her Santa’s list
Saying she wants ‘this and this and this!!’

So the humbug inside of me
Melts beside the Christmas tree
As she asks ‘grandad will it snow?’
I say ‘sweetheart let’s hope so!’

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Who Am I

I ponder! Debate, deliberate, contemplate.
Who am I?

From nothingness I’m thrust into this world.
Who am I?

Is this a test? A game? A dream? An illusion? 
Who am I?

No memory of where I came from, no proof of where I’ll go.
Who am I?

So many options. So many theories. They cannot all be right!
Who am I?

I look up to the sky. Is it real? Are we alone?
Who am I? 

My inner self, my conscience. Is that the truth?
Who am I?

Faith, prayer, hope, fear.
Who am I?

Do I have to wait until I die? I need to know.
Who am I?

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

The Hippo and the Kangaroo

A hippo and a kangaroo
were in a bar in Kathmandu. 
The hippo ordered a cold beer,
let us make that very clear.
The kangaroo on the other hand
was clever enough to understand
that getting drunk in Katmandu
is not the wisest thing to do!

Details | Ronald D Thompson Poem

Homeless

Whoever finds themselves alone,
To make their bed a slab of stone,
Goes there but for the grace of I
To contemplate the reason why.

Who knows the journey each have led?
The horrors which they may have fled.
Financial ruin is one such fate,
Or just hard luck, the loss is great!

And so, a life where pride is lost
To forage bins at any cost.
Where passersby will turn their heads
To go home to their comfy beds.

A placard scratched out more in hope
Disguises that they fail to cope
And thus, the empty cups reveal
The hopelessness they can’t conceal.

The cold and bitter winters night,
The cardboard box for which they’ll fight,
May stave off hypothermia
But do little for insomnia!

It’s miserable to say the least,
The fact that they will never feast
Or just to shower, enjoy a cuddle,
Instead a lowly fire they huddle.

Have we now become so cruel?
Whereby society will often drool
On celebrities who matter not,
Whilst these poor souls are thus forgot!