My very first vlog “Joe’s bedroom.” Enjoy!

Wimbledon - a poem by Joe Pearson

Murray’s on to play first set
Make sure serve goes over net
Backhand, forehand, drop shot, smash
If need be use challenge cache

Strawberries and cream on Murray Mound
He’s playing well, he’s making ground
It’s gone to deuce on centre court
Cheers to tennis - what a sport

The sun is shining, a wonderful day
The wind is tugging at your toupee
Rode the Pashley here, parked on the grass
You’ll have a wine, but just one glass

A perfect afternoon, some might say
But something’s off, your mind’s astray
What could it be? All is great
Can’t quite seem to just think straight

It’s Rolf Harris, he touched those kids
He’s going to prison for what he did
Can’t believe it, you’d have never guessed
Going home now, too depressed

World Cup - a poem by Joe Pearson

32 teams to Brazil come
Goals to score, games to be won
Try your hardest, there’s the net
Hit the back and you’ll be set

Come on England, here we go!
Get on the pitch, put on a show
Win 7 games to lift the cup
Winning 6 is not enough

New widescreen ON (the wife’s still sour)
Kick off starts in half an hour
Having fun, not one regret
Up the ante with a bet

Skip on down to William Hill
Place your bet, oh what a thrill!
Lose your money, watch and house
Drown your sorrows in Famous Grouse

Sobbing quietly in to your coat
Pull out a knife and slit your throat
Wife finds the body day after next
Didn’t bother to send a text

Shots for Everyone - a poem by Joe Pearson

Shots for her and shots for me

Shots for him and shots for thee

Shots in the garden and shots up a tree

Shots in the kitchen and lavatory

Shots on top and shots underneath

Shots with your nephew and shots with your niece

Shots at home and shots at work

Shots with the cleric and shots with the clerk

Shots in The West and shots in The East

Shots with a prince and shots with a priest

Shots with a Muslim and shots with a Jew

Shots of red, white and blue