When a young lady whose name is Lou
Asked, “what would you like to do?”
And I said, “if I say
You will throw me out today!”,
She replied, “that’s perfectly true!”.
When A Young Lady Whose Name Is Lou
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Monthly Archives: June 2019
The Picture
The picture stands out against the white
Of my living room wall.
A few birds still call.
A fascination with sunlight
Which, as I watch, slowly dies away.
The night
Takes the day
And the picture we see
Is lost in obscurity
Although we hope that this light
We borrow
Will be seen on the morrow,
But this we can not know.
Updates to my Soundcloud and Instagram accounts
I have uploaded a number of new pictures to my Instagram which can be found here.
I have also uploaded two new poems to my Soundcloud, which can be found here:
When I Met A Young Lady Named Lin
When I met a young lady named Lin
Who said, “I’m not in to sin”,
I said, “neither am I”,
And winked my good eye,
And wept, which was down to the gin!
Saturday Morning Humour
When I met a group of young women
Who said, “we are in to sinning”,
I made reply,
“No saint am I,
But my hair is gray and thinning!”.
—
When I met a group of young women
Who said, “we are in to sinning”,
I said, with a laugh,
“Please, vacate my bath!”,
Which led to a good deal of grinning!
—
I know a young lady named Samantha
Who behaves just like a pantha.
Whilst in my bedroom
And scented with sweet perfume,
But that’s enough about Samantha . . .
I Know A Young Man Named Monk
I know a young man named Monk
Who composes verse whilst extremely drunk,
As a pretty young barmaid
(Who is far from staid)
Entertains both me and Monk!
He Longed for Girls in High-Heels
He longed for girls in high-heels,
With soft,
Perfect skin.
But the devil coughed
And reminded him
That he was growing old
And that he had sold
His soul
For lust
To girls in high-heels
Who love gold,
Which crumbles into dust
A Young Lady Named Ling
A young lady named Ling
Has invited me to swing,
But having looked all around
I can see no fairground,
So know not how to swing!
The Song of the Birds – Guest Post by, Kevin Morris…
My thanks to the story Reading Ape for publishing my guest post on the poetry of birdsong. Ever since I can remember, I have felt a strong affinity with birds and this is, I believe reflected in many of my poems. Kevin
As a child, I spent a good deal of time with my grandfather. He was a lover of birds an I do, I believe derive my affection for our feathered friends from him. I recollect a nesting box attached to the garden shed, and my feeling of excitement when BlueTits where born. I also remember the bird table which attracted a great variety of birds.
Of course birdsong acts as a means of attracting a mate or warning off other birds who might trespass on the teritory of the songster. Nonetheless we humans find in the song of the birds an answering call within our own hearts. Their singing can bring joy to mind, or they may speak to us of sadness. A wonderful instance of the latter, can be found in Robert Frost’s poem “A Late Walk”:
“And when I come to the garden ground,
The…
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A Most Distinguished Aristocratic Old Maid
A most distinguished aristocratic old maid
Thinks it vulgar to engage in trade,
But I happen to know
That her great grandfather Joe,
Made his money by engaging in trade!
K Morris - Poet 