K. Morris's Blog, page 40

A Young Lady Who is Really Nice

A young lady who is really nice

Is known for her love of spice.

Her name is Miss Lott

And she likes it hot.

And she also likes curry and rice!

The Importance of Hope!

There once was a man named Hope

Who jumped out of a large envelope.

He gave a great shout,

Which caused quite a rout!

Then returned by post to Good Hope!

Were to Submit Your Poetry

A helpful list of places to submit your poetry, ranging from poetry magazines and journals through to publishers of pamphlets and books. https://poetryschool.com/theblog/where-to-submit-your-poetry-in-2023-2024/

 

Although this list refers to 2024, the vast majority of the publications will remain relevant in 2025 and beyond.

When a Wicked Old Rake Known as Winning

When a wicked old rake known as Winning

Said, “I’ve lost count of all the women

I have taken to bed”.

A young lady in red, said,

“With me you will not be winning, Winning!”.

Alexa Says it Won’t Rain Today

Alexa says it won’t rain today.

I put my coat on anyway.

Sure enough, it rains again.

Should I maintain

My faith in the reliability

Of modern technology?

No, today I shall pray

To the god of rain

And silently blast

The weather forecast!

 

Do that Again

When a beautiful young lady named Gwen

Said, “please go and do that again!”,

A writer called White

Smiled with great delight,

As again, he reached for his pen.

In the End

I desire to retire

To a house with old clocks.

There my poor words

Would be inspired by birds

And the clock’s slow tick tock.

 

 

I would forget my regret

And get lost in fine rhyme.

Women and wine

Would distract my mind

From passing time.

 

 

Young women’s heels click.

Old clocks tick.

But all must stop

In the end,

However much we pretend

They do not.

Halloween

I shiver in the churchyard on Halloween.

I have seen

No ghosts, just the open church door.

I am sure

There is nothing there to scare me,

Just ancient bones

Decaying under cold old stones.

 

It is said

The dead are forever dead.

Yet, when I leave the graves behind

I find the same mundane

Old suburban street, trodden by living feet,

Where quivering and shivering cease.

There Once Was a Slug From Slough

There once was a slug from Slough

Who said, “I really don’t know how

This lettuce tastes so good!

I wish that I could

Spend my days eating lettuce in Slough!”

Plato

She about to go to university

To read philosophy.

I mention that I read Plato

Long, long ago.

I wonder, can she possibly know

That old Plato

Has no hold on my mind …