K. Morris's Blog, page 20

A Ghoul in the School Swimming Pool

There once was a ghastly ghoul

Who haunted a school swimming pool.

When the headmistress Jane

Gave him the cane

He yelled and left that pool!

There Once Was a Vampire in Brighton

There once was a vampire in Brighton

Who liked all the people to frighten,

Until a waitress called Lake

Offered him a big steak,

Which frightened that vampire out of Brighton!

On Hearing the Wind Sing

On hearing the wind sing

And the wild rain

Battering at my window pane,

I know I am

But mortal man.

A temporary thing.

They Say there’s a Wicked Old Rake

They say there’s a wicked old rake

Who goes by the name of Lake.

But he’s also known as Kevin

And he’ll never get to heaven –

I think there must be some mistake!

Some Thoughts on Ernest Dowson

Often I think

On a fine poet who rhymed

Of women and wine

And who died of excess drink

At just 32.

 

 

All his party time

And his lust

Hid fear of dust.

 

 

Now I find in his rhyme

A great pleasure

In my leisure time.

But I have more than rhyme

To fill time.

Wild Flowers Bloomed Nearby

Wild flowers bloomed nearby

As I pondered on why

Shoes for petite feet,

And t-shirt where left

Bereft, behind,

In the wood.

For love

Of my rhyme?

Naughty Miss Harris

When I went with that naughty Miss Harris

For a dirty weekend to that beautiful Paris,

Her and Miss Honey

Stole all my money.

Dear reader, please send some money to Paris!

When the Mirror Fell

When the mirror fell

I thought not

Of the Lady of Shalott,

Although I know

The rhyme quite well.

 

 

Noone got cut.

You mentioned bad luck.

And I have not forgot

The unfortunate Shalott.

But believe it not.

I have Heard Nymphs are Sometimes Found

I have heard nymphs  are sometimes found

In the fragrant wood.

 

 

It would be good to lie down

On the leafy ground

And take delight in Aphrodite.

 

 

But no, the wood

Is full of deep mud

And poor Miss Aphrodite

Would spoil yet another nightie!

A Poem from “Leaving and Other Poems”

We maintain

The urbane

And are witty

In the city.

But those who hark

To the fox’s bark

In the suburban dark

Find the urbane

Hard to maintain

And their wit

Begins to slip.

 

(Note: the above poem appears in my collection “Leaving and Other Poems”, which is available in Kindle and paperback from Amazon https://www.amazon.co.uk/Leaving-other-poems-Kevin-Morris/dp/B09R3HR9KG).