Whilst hiding in a large metal bin
I met a young lady named Lin.
She dressed in clear plastic
And had morals most elastic.
But I didn’t give in to sin!
—
Whilst hiding in a rather large metal bin
With a most sinful young lady named Lin,
A kindly constable called Ted
Said, “please go to bed.
You’d be more comfortable than in this bin!”.
In lockdown, poets rhyme,
While a girl’s smile
And her precious time,
Are bought online.
After the wine,
And giggles and wriggles.
Men are left, bereft.
And poets rhyme.
A Eliot poem
Mingled with birds,
Made me lose,
All my words.
There once was a wicked old squire
Who lusted after his young housemaid Moriah.
Of an evening late
He lay in wait.
And got brained by Moriah’s hair dryer!
As I strolled by a deep old canal
A young man said, “your poems are banal”.
I said, “there is no one around
And a man may so easily drown.
And the path is treacherous by this canal”.
As is so often said, writing is a solitary activity. Whilst I relish the company of family and friends, I require solitude to write.
My love of solitude does, I believe go back to childhood/my teenage years. I remember, on my 18th birthday saying “goodnight” to everyone who had come to celebrate with me and going to bed! Well it was late and I was tired, and I’m not a party animal!
Returning to the subject of writing. In my place of work we have a creative writing group. Recently it was decided to set aside an hour during which people could go online (using Microsoft Teams) and write together. People can share their writing (or not as they wish), and most people sit in silence for the whole hour.
The below poem was composed yesterday during one of these sessions:
“Listening to the falling
Rain.
Recalling
The same
Thought; This rain
Will remain.
And, when I am gone
I shall be as one,
With the rain.”
I would be interested to know whether any of my readers have written together, whether online or whilst in the same physical space?
When a plump young lady named Bess
Tried to put on a little dress,
Her forgetful friend, Miss Lou
Said, “I’ve lost my shoe.
And Bess, you have ripped that dress!”.
Whilst walking home very late last night
I met with a vampire named Right.
She had beautiful white fangs
And spoke of great bangs.
And we are meeting again at midnight.
There once was a young lady named Bess
Who was well known for her special dress.
That wise old Miss Rose
Speaks of the Emperor’s Clothes.
And Bess, who wore a very special dress.
When a young man named Mr Grist
Said, “you are well and truly missed!”.
And I said, “I’ve been drinking”.
He said, “Sir, I’ve been thinking
Of a word that rhymes with missed!”.
K Morris - Poet 