K. Morris's Blog, page 324

When A Young Lady Named Leigh

When a young lady named Leigh
Said, “you have had too much tea!”,
And I said, “are you judging?”,
She said, “no, I am begrudging,
The fact you left none for me!”.

51

Its my birthday today.
I shall walk in the wood
And maybe see
A nymph.
But, if so,
I shall be good!

I shall go to the pub
Tonight
And delight
In the company of companions dear,
As we sit near
To the open fire.

I am 51.
Over half a century has passed.
Tonight I shall raise a glass
And wonder where the time
Has gone,
And be glad
That I have
Friends, and rhyme.

Whilst Walking In The Forest Of Dean

Whilst walking in The Forest of Dean
I met a girl by a stream,
Who said, “I’m a nymph”.
I said, “you should rinse,
As your teeth are far from clean!”.

I Would Rather Die In This Darkening Park

I
Would rather die
In this darkening park,
While
Evening birds sing,
Than in some sterile
Hospital wing,
Where drugs oblivion bring,
And no birds sing.

—

Having written the last line, I am reminded that I owe a huge debt to John Keats, “La Belle Dame sans Merci”, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44475/la-belle-dame-sans-merci-a-ballad).

The last 2 lines of the first stanza of Keat’s poem read:
“The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing”.
While the last stanza of the...

When A Respectable Lady From The Forest Of Dean

When a respectable lady from the Forest of Dean
Said, “sir, your poetry is really obscene,
As its all about newly opened flowers,
And sinful young women’s great erotic powers,
I said, “dear madam, I pay you to clean!”.

A Young Lady Named Lou

A young lady named Lou
Said “I’ve lots to teach you,
Of history, english, and maths,
Of women and of bubble baths.
Well, at least of the latter 2!”.

When A Young Man of Harrow

When a young man of Harrow
Escaped to a place called Jarrow,
And my friend Claire
Followed him to there,
He disguised himself as a marrow!

You May See Beauty in Poetry

You may see
Beauty in poetry,
And smile
While
The thing being described,
Is otherwise …

A Poet’s Epitaph

“He liked to rhyme
And was fond
Of women
And wine,
And sinning.
Now he has gone beyond
Women,
And wine,
And sinning.
And he is out of time
For rhyme”.

There Once Was A Poet Named Lou

There once was a poet named Lou
Who said, “one day I’ll break through
With my very quirky verse”.
But it grew steadily worse,
So she turned to making strong glue!