Women offer delight for the night
Or an hour or so
And when they go
There is no love left behind
To comfort the unquiet mind.
Just a bank transfer
From him to her.
True, some girls pretend to care,
But if the money isn’t there …
In late August, the wind blows dust
And a plastic bag flaps.
Perhaps this little rhyme of ending summertime
May engage on yellowing page
When I am below
And can not know
For the hearse
Takes all verse,
Though poems may stay.
A young lady known as Miss Ice
Has a reputation for not being nice.
Her real name is Coral
And she’s so very immoral!
But to me she’s always been nice …!
This storm in late August
Has stripped many leaves from trees.
Twigs snap and crack underfoot.
All Augusts must fade to September.
And I remember
Autumn must come.
Behind all lust
Lurks fear of dust.
For in war
Children and hate proliferate.
I met a group of young women
Who spoke of the joys of sinning.
But I, being shy
Hid in a pie
With the beautiful and talented Miss Winning!
I passed by men mowing the churchyard grass.
When I came that way again
The men had passed, to go and mow
Some other grass perhaps.
I have walked the churchyard path
So oft , and passing by graves have coughed
Due to the hay.
One day the mower will pass,
And I will lie under the churchyard grass.
I have heard the tick tock
Of my old clock
And listened to young women’s feet
Beating out a rhyme
Of passing time
On the indifferent street
Where loneliness meets,
For a little while,
With a smile
Cold as gold.
A poetry reading will be taking place at the Royal Albert pub, Upper Norwood, London SE19, at 7 pm on Tuesday 13 August. There are 10 minute slots available.
For information on the Royal Albert pub please follow this link https://www1.camra.org.uk/pubs/royal-albert-upper-norwood-141485. Please feel free to turn up on the evening. However, should you have any queries regarding the event please contact Kevin at kmorrispoet (at) gmail .com. The email address is rendered thus in order to prevent spam.
Kevin
When I met a young lady of Kampala
Who said, “I worked in a massage parlour”.
And I said, “but Coral!
You are so very moral!”.
She said, “they sacked me from that parlour …!”
K Morris - Poet 