K. Morris's Blog, page 466

There Was A Young Lady Of Peru

There was a young lady of Peru
Who never would wear a shoe.
When out for a walk
The people would talk
So I lent her my only shoe!

Time Passing

For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by traditional (pendulum) clocks. The slow movement of the pendulum reminds me of Old Father Time chopping up seconds which will never return. There is, in the swing of a pendulum something both comforting and chastening. The slow swing reminds one of a slower pace of life, of a more stable/traditional society, while one is also conscious that each movement brings one’s demise fractionally closer. A number of my poems touch (either directl...

There Was A Young Lady Called Moriah

There was a young lady called Moriah
Who married a Tory squire.
But being a Whig
She gave not a fig
For Toryism or that squire!

There was a young lady called Moriah
Who married a Socialist squire.
They retained a maid
Who was rarely paid
And they kept a roaring fire!

There was a young lady called Moriah
Who married a very old squire.
Their butler Mike
Rode a bike
And fulfilled her every desire …

Wherefore

Her gown
Tossed aside
Without pride.
Her crown
Has fallen down
But there are none to stare
For it is his and her
Affair.
Wherefore
Should you and I care?

When The TV Does Cease

When the TV does cease
Peace
In the hypnotic
Tick tock
Of the clock
Takes hold.

Tel me not
That time is a despot.
True the wise and the fool
Both must obey his rule,
But the wise accept
While many a fool has wept
At the swing of his rod
That reduces all to sod.

The TV
Can make us free
For a while from the thought
That we ought
To heed the pendulum’s swing
That does bring
Our spring
To summer and thence
To autumn when those of little sense
Dye their hair
(Although
They know
That the winter s...

There Was A Young Man Called Nool

There was a young man called Nool
Who called me a blithering fool.
When I said “pistol or sword?”
He replied “good lord
I really don’t want to duel!”.

My guest post on Secret Diary of Porter Girl

My thanks to Lucy Brazier for hosting me on her excellent blog. To read my guest post please follow this link, https://portergirl.com/2018/08/23/kevin-morris-the-writers-pen-other-poems/

I Know A Young Lady Called Divine

I know a young lady called Divine
Who often comes round to mine.
Her husband Bill
Swears he will
Come round but not with wine …!

Tuesday Morning Humour

There was a young lady called Hall
Who invited me to a ball,
But when I got there
She said, with a glare
“I didn’t invite you at all!”.

There was a young lady called Hall
Who invited me to a ball,
But when I got there
She said, with a glare
“This invitation I fail to recall!”.

There was a young lady from France
Who requested me to dance.
Her best friend Lou
Said “me too”
Which led to a little romance …!

There was a young lady from France
Who invited me to dance.
As we waltzed on the dance...

RAPE.*Trigger warning.

It was dark inside the church. Dark as the hell inside her. It was a few years since “the THING” had happened to her. Mostly now, it was way back in her mind. But the darkness still remained.

She had gone to light candles. To pierce the darkness. Hers and her friend’s. Her friend had been attacked by her own dog, and now she was being monitored for rabies. She had spent the last two days on the phone with her friend, listening, trying to calm her. But all that there was to do now was light...