K. Morris's Blog, page 61

Alarm

The alarm warns me

That my tea

Is ready for me

In the microwave.

There is nothing profound

In It’s sound

Which will not save

Me from the grave

Where no bird

Is ever heard

And worms make tea

Of you and me.

Lust

Lonely men

Engage in deals

With women in heels

Who dance through dust.

And the dance,

As all dances must

Ends in dust.

But, perchance

Some men dance

For fear of dust.

Phlegmatic Matt

There was a phlegmatic young man named Matt

Who was fond of stroking his cat.

When a ghoul appeared

And most wickedly sneered,

He said, “its always a pleasure to chat”.

A Walk in the Rain

As I pass by

These churchyard trees

In the spring rain,

I know I

Must one day die

And these trees outlast me.

But the rain will remain

When they and me

Are one in eternity.

 

Sally Who Liked to Loiter in an Alley

There was a young lady named Sally

Who liked to loiter in an alley.

When a man called Ted

Said, “is that dress red?”,

She said, “I live near this alley …”.

Blossoming Time

Your hair, long and dark

Brushed my fingers.

In the blossom scented park

My thoughts lingered

On a girl unaware

Of fingers longing to linger

In long soft hair.

 

I can not induce

Old Time with my rhyme

To return my youth.

Now your hair is dark.

How soon blossom

Falls in the park

And is forgotten.

My Dog and the Clock

My dog delights in sunlight.

His tail responds to my hand.

 

 

The old clock’s pendulum chops.

He and I can not command

Its  inexorable chop,  chop.

 

 

Yet we can take delight

In this fleeting light.

But my friend knows not

The clock must stop.

When a Lady High in a Tree

When a lady high in a tree

Said. “come here and sit with me”.

And I feared I would fall

She said, “o! don’t you recall,

That you fell long ago with me …!”

The Oldest Game

She ends each text with an x,

While he, with a world weary smile

Does the same.

It’s the oldest game

Around they say.

Some Feminists may frown

But the men still pay.

 

 

The women pay to,

But in a different way.

Some girls play a part

And retain their heart.

But each party pays,

And all loves and lusts

Are but endless dust.

The Divine Poetic Line

A young lady composing a poetic line

Said, “I’ll have another glass of wine

As the more I drink

The more I do think

That my poetic line is truly divine …!.