K. Morris's Blog, page 314

He Called On Aphrodite

He called on Aphrodite
To keep him company
At night.
But she,
Being otherwise engaged,
Paged
Lizzie,
Who suggested Claire
(As Lizzie
Was busy
washing her hair).

But Claire
Being blind drunk,
Recommended a rascally old monk!
So, in despair
He contacted Joan,
Who told him where
To go, over the telephone!

Dough

All the world does know
That a man with much dough
May buy
Expensive art,
And catch a young girl’s eye.
But he will find
That her heart
And mind
Are not part
Of the deal.
But, still, he may steal
More than a kiss,
From a calculating, miss.

Racism

This is a difficult post to write. As someone born and raised in the United Kingdom of Great Britain, I have, for as long as I can remember, had (and still have) a deep love for the culture and traditions of these islands.

Britain has been instrumental in assisting in the spread of parliamentary democracy across the globe. And Shakespeare, Chaucer and Dickens are literary figures known and celebrated throughout the world.

The area in which I live is composed of groups from all over the...

When A Young Lady Whose Name Is Ling

When a young lady whose name is Ling
Said, “I shall slip into a slinky thing”,
I just had the time
To compose a brief rhyme.
Its known as a limerick kind of thing

Fragile

An insect
Brushed against my head.
I showed it respect,
For soon it will be dead

And an insect
Is fragile
As a girl’s smile.
A kiss.
Or the bliss
Of bed.

And the wind blew chill
And will
Do still,
When I am dead.

I Used To Fantasise

I used to fantasise
About a girl who walked
And talked
With me.
I saw not her eyes,
But we,
Were free
As the tide, which comes and goes,
In gentle flows,
Or with tempetuous roar
O’er the thirsting shore.

Barefoot, and hand in hand
We walked along the sand
Of some dream-like beach.
But no man can command
A fantasy,
And she,
I can not reach.

When A Young Man Whose Name Is Mo

When a young man whose name is Mo
Said, “the red lights they so brightly glow,
And provide such great pleasure
In all kinds of weather”.
I said, “good priest, how do you know?”.

I Met A Young Lady Playing The Flute

I met a young lady playing the flute
Who said, “will you partake of my fruit?,
I have apples and pears
And if you go upstairs,
I’ll show you how to play on my flute!”.

I hear The Breeze In The Churchyard Trees

I hear the breeze
In the churchyard trees.
Cars pass on the road nearby,
While I
Think on what is true;
The eternal breeze
In the churchyard trees,
Blowing on those who,
Momentarily, pass through.

Chime

The chime
Of my old, staid
Clock, does remind
me that there is a debt
To be paid.
But time,
Ends all regret.