K. Morris's Blog, page 341

Acrostic

Evening, your dress
Short. Your bought
Caress
Offered only to
Rich men when
They pay for you.

Her Dress

Her dress
Did cling
To her in springtime,
Which caused
The poet passing by
To pause,
And compose
A rhyme
To fleeting time.
But do you suppose
That he did not sigh,
And, in his secret heart
Ponder on more than art. ?

Lemonade

A schoolboy
Crush on a girl of similar age.
Imagine his great joy
When she accepted his lemonade.
But he did regret
For her skirt
Got wet
And the game
Of flirt
He played
Ended in shame
And the loss of his lemonade!

Bush in the Rain

Today I passed by
The bush, so green
In the light rain.
‘Tis a thing so often seen
By me,
This tree.
Yet I returned again
And touched both leaf and tree,
For the seas will still roar
Though I shall be,
No more

Saturday Morning Humour

A young man named Hogg
Owns a very bad dog.
It stole the stocking
Of poor miss Hocking,
And Hogg he stole her clog!

—

A young lady dressed in pink
Gave me a knowing wink
And said to me, “come and see
What lies behind that fine old oaktree”,
And her hair it had a kink.

Famous Writers and their Pets

A fascinating review of a book about authors and their pets, https://interestingliterature.com/2019/11/08/alex-johnson-famous-writers-pets-review/. I knew about Edward Lear’s cat Foss, but had no idea that Byron took with him to university one bear (and not the kind of bear one buys in a toy shop)!

I grew up with dogs and still remember with great affection my first dog, Jet. Jet was a black lab/alsatian cross and loved people. He was though not fond of other dogs and (if he got out of the house) would chase cars!

I am now working with my fourth guide dog, a brindle lab/retr...

An Attractive Young Lady Named Claire

An attractive young lady named Claire
Is forever washing her hair.
I’ve had a hot date
With her best mate Kate,
But today Kate’s washing her hair!

A Beautiful Young Critic Named Nell

A beautiful young critic named Nell
Said, “in poetry you must show not tell”.
But, when I showed her mine
Over dinner and the finest of French wine,
My poetry was lauded by Nell!

When An Extremely Rude Young Lad

When an extremely rude young lad
Said, “your poetry ’tis very bad!”,
I said, “I once new a boy
By the name of Roy or Troy,
His demise was so very sad!

I have Heard the Tick Tock of the Clock

I have heard
The tick tock
Of the clock
And thought
That I ought
To become
A better man,
Ere the clock’s word
Is no longer heard
And the sun
Does, forever set
On my regret.

Marvell was right,
For, oft, at night
I fancy I hear
“Time’s Winged chariot hurrying near”.
The year
Will soon close.
No man knows
How many more he has got,
Therefore heed the tick tock
Of the clock