K. Morris's Blog, page 386

Jaz

As I listened to jaz
I felt a pang
As a young woman sang,
For I thought on the last time
I heard the jaz
In this place, with you,
So wrote a rhyme
As it was all I could do.

As I Walked Through The Graveyard Last Night

As I walked through the graveyard last night
I met a young woman in white.
As she arose from her grave
With a ghoul called Dave
I said, “do you fancy a drink tonight?”

—

As I walked through the graveyard last night
I saw a young woman in white.
As she arose from her grave
I said, “my soul I must save!”,
Then I ran like the clappers last night!

The Dos And Donts of Interacting with a Blind or Visually Impaired Person

People come to my blog either because they like my poetry, or due to a post on a subject of interest to them catching their attention. Most of those clicking on this site are unaware of the fact that I am registered blind (unless they click on my “About page and see a photograph of me with my guide dog, Trigger, or they come across one of the few posts in which I talk about my visual impairment). Not being aware of my blindness means that my readers interact with me as they would with anyone...

A Poet Named Mark

There once was a poet named Mark
Whose verse was extremely dark,
So they sent him to sea
On a rotten old tree,
Where he was eaten by a shark!

—

I know a young man named Mark
Whose verse is extremely dark.
He sails the great sea
On a rotten old tree,
And plays upon his harp!

How Convenient To Have A Graveyard So Close To My Home

How convenient to have a graveyard
So close to my home.
‘Twill not be hard
As, when I die
There will not be far to go
For my bones
But, you know
The place has remained undisturbed
By burials for many a year.
I am perturbed
And shed a tear
As I do not know
Where I shall go
When I die.

Perhaps my ashes will, in a pub find a place
And the drinker, with his or her flushed face
Will look at me and say,
“He used to drink this way.
Another beer
Here barman, for I feel suddenly queer
And must drink
E...

When Men Reach The Stars

When men
Reach the stars
And girls lose their bras
At the click of a mouse.
And men
Can be
Whatever they wish to be
In the virtual house,
I wonder will we
Be happy
Or free.

They Say That 2 Is Company

They say
That 2 is company
While 3
Is a crowd.
A few are loud
And will with honesty proclaim
(Without fear of shame)
That they
Like 3.
But I beg thee
Do not ask me
To explain
For I may
Lie, or simply not say . . .

A Young Man Whose Name is Grub

A young man whose name is Grub
Has invited me along to his club,
Which is full of beautiful women,
Who are in to hot sinning,
Well, that’s what I’m told by Grub . . .

—

A young man whose name is Grub
Has invited me along to his club,
Which is full of beautiful women,
Who are in to hot sinning,
But I’d rather go down the pub!

Saturday Morning Humour

I know a young lady named Pam.
We met on Instagram.
She lives in my city
And is often witty,
And her dress ’tis made of ham!

—

My friend whose name is Hogg
Owns a very large dog.
When I hear a bark
In the depths of the dark
I throw my clog at Hogg!.

—

I met a young lady named White
With whom I spent the night.
‘Twas on an express train
From London to Dunblane.
And she drives that train each night!.

When A Young Lady Whose Name Is Brock

When a young lady whose name is Brock
Wore a very short frock,
A vicar named Mike
Fell off his bike,
Which gave that poor young lady a shock!

—

When a young lady whose name is Brock
Wore a very short frock,
A vicar called Mike
Fell off his bike
At the shock of that very short frock