K. Morris's Blog, page 133
June 22, 2022
Gwen’s Clever Old Hen
There was a young lady named Gwen
Who owned a most clever old hen.
It’s name was White,
And it could write,
As it had swallowed Gwen’s fountain pen!
June 20, 2022
Chatbot
There was a young man named Lot
Who fell in love with a chatbot.
His friends called him sad,
Which made him quite mad!
As that chatbot was really quite hot!
Dawn Who Likes to Dance on My Lawn
I know a young lady named Dawn
Who likes to dance on my lawn.
When I say, “heels ruin my grass!”,
She says, “all things must surely pass!”.
That naughty and philosophical young lady Dawn!
June 19, 2022
K Morris reading his poem ‘Time’.
Last Friday, (17 June), I gave a poetry reading on Microsoft Teams for work colleagues. One of the poems read was “Time”. My reading was not recorded. However, here is a reading of “Time”, which I recorded back in 2017. “Time” is included in my Selected Poems, which is available in paperback and Kindle from Amazon.
Poet Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘Time’.
Miss Heart’s Art
I know a young lady named Heart
Who is famous for showing her art.
Some call her rude,
When she models nude.
But I say Heart shows her art …!
Bangles
My heart entangled
With girlish bangles.
A girl’s jewels
Oft make fools
Of weak man
But who can
Jangling bangles resist
On feminine wrist?
June 18, 2022
Miss Vickers Knickers
A young lady whose name is Vickers
Is well known for losing her knickers.
A bishop called Paul
Says, “we all fall”,
As he admires those knickers of Vickers …!
June 17, 2022
Words On A January Day
This is, perhaps, a somewhat strange time of year (summer) to reblog this poem. However, I came across it whilst choosing poems for an online poetry reading, and felt that it would be an appropriate piece to include in it. In the end, I did not read “Words on a January Day”, so thought I would repost it here.
There is something about the song
Of birds, on a cold, January day,
That makes me wish to stay,
Out in this wood,
Where
The air
Is good.
There song
Is long
As joy, or gr...
June 16, 2022
They Perform
They perform.
I drink
And think
Of Dowson’s grey dawn,
Of women and men,
And of how when
I die
Perchance, some of my
Poetry, may survive them,
And me.
