I know a middle-aged lady named Bland
Who plays in a traditional brass band.
She is fond of young men
And has a toy boy called Ken,
Who plays along with Miss Bland . . .
Miss Bland
11 Replies
Monthly Archives: June 2019
Cramp
I wake
And feel an ache
In my bones.
I must
Engage with cramp
For age
Has left a stamp
On me
And dust
Hides in corners.
You may
Clear the dust away
But ’tis a never ending task
Which, at last
Will defeat
The best of men.
And the ache reminds thee
And me
That, in the end
The dust will win, my friend
A Young Lady Whose Name Is Bland
A young lady whose name is Bland
Said, “your wish is my command”,
But when I said, “iron my clothes”,
She hit me on the nose.
Young ladies I will never understand!
When Poets Don’t Read Poetry – by Melissa Donovan…
Unlike the author of the original post, I began reading poetry prior to composing it. I have happy memories of leafing through various anthologies, including Palgrave’s Golden Treasury and the Oxford Book of English verse, (the latter has been superceeded by The New Oxford Book of English Verse). I agree with Melisa that its difficult to write poetry unless one has first read the work of other poets. Kevin
I Know A Young Man Named Hogg
I know a young man named Hogg
Who composed a poem about the smog.
His work is too dense
And fails to make sense,
And he lost me deep in the fog!
Punting
Some men love the horserace.
‘Tis the thrill of winning
After which they chase.
Others prefer another kind of punting,
A hunting
After fallen women.
‘Tis a type of bet,
Which some call sinning,
Which may end in regret
Or pleasure, but never winning
When You Saw Her With Me
When you saw her with me
And I asked, “did she
Look Happy?”
You answered “yes”
Which, I must confess
Made me
Smile, for she
Did not smile
Away her time
With me
For the love of my rhyme,
And a smile may beguile,
Reveal or conceal
Simultaneously, while
All you see
Is a smile
That does grace
A girl’s pretty face . . .
Me reading my poem ‘Park after Rain’.
A dark poem from my Archives. Looking through my files I am unable to find a written version of “Park After Rain”, so it would appear that this Youtube recording is the only copy in existence.
A recording of yours truly reading my poem ‘Park after Rain’.
Can anyone detect a Liverpool accent?
Sunday Afternoon Humour
I met a young lady named Lou
Who Said, “I will model for you”.
I found it quite shocking
When she took off a stocking,
But then she lost a shoe!
—
I met a young lady named Lou
Who said, “I will model for you”.
I found it real shocking
When a girl called Hocking
Came and joined in too!
—
I met a young lady named Lou
Who said, “I will model for you”.
I found it real shocking
When she removed a stocking,
But then she took off my shoe!
When A Young Man Named Mitch
When a young man named Mitch
Said, “poetry will make me rich!”,
A young lady called Moriah
Sighed, “I must marry the squire,
For poetry does not make one rich!”.
K Morris - Poet 