Regret

He picks up the phone
And texts Louisa or Joan.
Or, whilst browsing the internet
He finds a brief forget
In the arms of Yvette.

When she’s gone away he will say,
“I felt her youthful hand in mine
And to forget regret, poured more wine.
But the tick tock of the clock
Brought to mind, that old voyeur, Time.”

10 thoughts on “Regret

    1. K Morris Poet Post author

      I am sorry to hear that you have had rain. I hope that better weather is on its way. I walked in the woods with my mum’s partner yesterday and their dog. The woods where lovely, but the weather was cooler than that of Sunday. If you are ever in London do drop me an email as, if you have time it would be nice to chat over coffee or a pint or 2. Kevin

      Reply

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