K. Morris's Blog, page 32

At the Edge of Town

At the edge of town
All sound is drowned
By the wind and rain.

The Roman came
And wrote Rome’s name
Here in Britain.

Now I hear the same
Wind and rain.

A Young Lady of Compassion

I met a young lady named White
Who offered me delight for the night.
She was a girrl of fashin
And showed great compassion
By giving me a discount last night …

Distract From Thought

Distracted from thought

I heard birds sing

As I walked

The path were all thought ends

And Enemies and friends

Lie under the same unending sky,

As will I.

Life After Death

There once was a young lady named Beth

Who said, “there is no life after death!”.

A ghoul called Nool

Called her a fool

Which frightened that poor young lady to death!

Maddy’s Sugar Daddy

I know a young lady named Maddy

Who is dating a rich sugar daddy.

I hear from Miss Heather

He’s neither witty nor clever.

But he’s rich and he’s dating Maddy!

Tight Leather

I met a young lady in tight leather

Who said, “my name it is Heather.

I go out on the town

All my sorrows to drown,

But pass out through wearing tight leather!”

Temporary

On my way home

I passed by street lights

On a winter’s night

And thought of glorious Rome

As their temporary sparks

Held back the dark.

When a Young Lady Who Works in Vice

When a young lady who works in vice

Went and slipped on some treacherous  black ice,

And a vicar called Paul

Said, “I’ve seen many fall!”,

She said, “help me up off this ice!”.

 

Shocking

I know a young lady named Hocking

Whose life is blameless not shocking.

Her friend Miss Coral

Is so very moral

And this poem is boring not shocking!

Tears, Idle Tears by Alfred Lord Tennison

Recently I enjoyed a meal with my friend Jeff, during which he quoted from Tennyson’s beautiful poem, “Tears, Idle Tears”. The poem resonates with me and is reproduced below:

 

 

“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the ...