A quarter of the universe’s
mass is made from helium.
It’s forged in stars from hydrogen.
There’s plenty in our solar Sun.

Its gas is light but won’t explode.
As liquid, it’s extremely cold.
We need it for experiments,
MRIs and asthma meds.

Our atmosphere has almost none.
Earth’s gravity can’t hold it in.
Balloons that float-up might be fun
but waste our precious helium.

Find out more at:
https://blogs.unimelb.edu.au/sciencecommunication/2012/09/25/the-ethics-of-balloons/

Bananas are going places
Bananas can be tricky
You can’t hurry bananas
Ok, we all agree bananas are bananas
Bananas believe in climate-change
I’m sure there’s a future for bananas
Sometimes the nicest people are bananas
Bananas are for keeps
Be a happy banana 

My Grandmother’s pies are delicious,
And no one can tell me they’re not.
The outside is made out of toenails,
And the inside is all filled with snot.

I try not to take off my shoes around friends,
Or acquaintances, family, in fact it extends,
To others like doctors or dentists or vets,
The neighbourhood children or even their pets.

I fear if I did, the escaping perfume,
Might just overcome anyone in the room.
So, I keep them wrapped up through the day good and tight,
And would desperately love to unleash them at night,
But I share a bunk bed, so I keep them away,
In hopes that my brother survives until day.

The trouble all started when I was just four,
I’d left my old socks laying out on the floor,
When in strolled our old ginger tabby named Fred,
Who sniffed at the socks and then fell over dead.

My mum came in next to find Fred on the floor,
She caught a small whiff and went straight out the door.
“There’s something in there that’s so toxic,” she said,
“That I almost passed out, and I think it’s killed Fred!”

Dad grabbed a mask that he uses for painting,
In hopes that he might get in there without fainting,
He carefully opened the door to my room,
Then picked up the socks on the end of a broom,
And dashed to the laundry as quick as a flash,
Dropping both of my socks in the sink with a splash,

And thankfully that was the end of all that,
Except for the loss of our old ginger cat,
But still that catastrophe could have been worse,
If mother or brother had wandered in first.

So now there’s a rule in my family home,
If I’m taking my shoes off, I must be alone,
And I must put my socks in the washing machine,
So that nobody smells them until they are clean.

Compared to wolves who live in this wood,
my facial expressions are really good.
Domestic dogs have evolved a trait
which helps us to communicate.

Instead of howling long and slow,
like wolves do when the moon’s aglow,
we’ve learnt to bark, say yap, yap, yap
for pay attention human chap.

Our eyebrows we can drop and raise
and give you one big longing gaze
that says now please be nice to me,
you know I love you, honestly.

No wolf can do this clever trick.
They lack the muscles called fast-twitch.
So have you guessed my current mood? 
It’s, take me home and give me food!

Dogs use fast-acting face muscles to help them make puppy-dog eyes:
https://www.newscientist.com/article/2314938-dogs-use-fast-acting-face-muscles-to-help-them-make-puppy-dog-eyes/

We were having a picnic
A rug spread on the ground
My owners eating merrily
I watched and made no sound.
The day was cool but bright
I was thrown a bone or two
Whilst they chatted on
Leaving me to enjoy a chew.
As the time marched on
And cooler it became
They started packing up
Whilst the weather was still tame.
They left me on the rug
As they ferried goods away
But I felt cold and miserable
Having been told to stay.
I wrapped the blanket around me
And waited for their return
As I was feeling cold
Which was of a concern.
I sat there huddled up
Obedient as one can be 
And upon their return 
My heart pounded full of glee.