K. Morris's Blog, page 424
February 12, 2019
When A Young Lady Who Is Divine
When a young lady who is Divine
Asked me to be her Valentine,
My wife Clair
Said, “he is washing his hair”,
But it was washed by 9 …
Lou
When a young lady whose name is Lou
Behaved in a manner most blue,
I said, “you would look quaint
Covered in red paint,
But blue doesn’t suit you Lou”!
—
When a young lady by the name of Lou
Jumped in a vat of glue,
And I asked her why?
She made reply,
“Its just something I like to do”!
February 11, 2019
Forgot
Her caress
Recollected.
He thought they connected.
She returned unexpected
For the dress.
Forgot
There Was A Young Lady Named Lou
There was a young lady named Lou
Who fell in love with Andrew.
But Andrew loved Claire,
Who was having an affair
With a man employed by a zoo!
February 10, 2019
Monday Morning Humour
There once was a man named Moat
Who went to sea with a goat.
When his ship it sank,
The captain, Frank
Said, “will someone save that goat”!
—
There once was a young lady named White
Who haunted my home at night.
A sceptic named Ted
Said, “the dead are forever dead”,
Now she haunts his house at night”!
Drinking Poetry
I am unable to Poe
and thinking of Plath
as I listen in darkness
to Longfellow’s serenade
drinking absolute
torch and Twain
as Ayr’s bard Burns,
like Dante’s Inferno
sliding down…
down… my throat
ere a chilly Frost,
while daring to walk
on The Road Not Taken
with Tolkien’s Hobbits
running Swift and Wilde…
Sexton coughs, “Live or Die!”
and Cohen croons, “Hallelujah!”
until the night is over and Donne.
© Literary Remains
There Is A Young Lady Named Lorraine
There is a young lady named Lorraine
Who often causes me pain.
Whenever I am cut
By her stilettos on my foot,
She says, “please, don’t wear them again”!
To Understand Me
To understand me
Read my poetry
Or, maybe …
Faces
Being blind
I find
No traces
Of faces
In the loud
Blank crowd
Which might, my memory spark.
My world is not dark.
I see
The outline of post and tree,
Though I can not see
The individual She
(Other than an outline
I am unable to define).
I recall the feel
Of a girl’s high-heel
And the dress
I felt
(‘Twas more belt
Than dress).
I recollect a caress
(Sometimes meant)
And girl’s sweet scent.
And the click
Of heels
As the clock’s tick
Unnoticed, steals.
I can grasp
Elements of the past,
But I...
