K. Morris's Blog, page 394

There Was A Young Lady of Stroud

There was a young lady of Stroud
Whose voice was so horribly loud,
That a librarian named Paul
Said, “you’re driving my readers up the wall,
As your voice its so horribly loud!”.

And then you know . . .

How short her skirt.
No need to flirt.
Just a quick “hello”
And then you know . . .
For ’tis always so
With girls of a certain profession,
Although, some show more discretion . . .

Nothing More

Heels clip clop,
Then stop
At a suburban door.
A doorbell peal.
A grubby deal.
Nothing more.

When My Friend Whose Name is Matt

When my friend whose name is Matt
Asked me to look after his flat,
Young ladies from Ealing
Danced on the ceiling,
And his neighbours they all cursed Matt!

—

When my friend whose name is Matt
Asked me to look after his flat,
A young lady from Ealing
Said, “my senses are reeling,
And who owns that purple cat?”

The Bells of All Saints

What do the bells of All Saints say
On this cold spring day?
Is it “repent?”
Or a lament,
A sighing
For a civilisation that is dying?
I can not say.

—

The above poem was inspired by me hearing the bells of All Saints Church, as I passed through the churchyard on the morning of Sunday 5th May 2019). You can find All Saints Upper Norwood here, http://www.allsaintsuppernorwood.co.uk/).

You Cleaned Your Teeth

You cleaned your teeth
And came to bed.
I remember not
What was said.
But talk is cheap
Though not so diamond rings
And other things
Of which we shall not speak.

When a Young Person Named Dan

When a young person named Dan
Threatened me with a frying Pan,
And said, “you will die!”,
I offered him some pie,
Which mollified that young man named Dan.

You and Me Drinking Wine On My Settee

You and me
Drinking wine on my settee,
Both of us knowing
Where this was going
For we had nowhere at all
Left to fall

Places of Poetry

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“Places of Poetry is an exciting 2019 community arts project, centred on a distinctive digital map of England and Wales.

Through the course of a four-month summer public campaign, writers from across the country will be invited to write new poems of place, heritage and identity, and pin them to the map.

Places of Poetry will prompt reflection on national and cultural identities in England and Wales, celebrating the diversity, heritage and personalities of place”.

To learn more about Places o...

When a Young Man Named More

When a young man named More
Said, “my love she is pure.
We met last night
Under a winking red light,
I said, “my friend, are you sure?”