Most of my poems are written in rhyme, although one should never force a rhyme where no rhyme should properly be. I find an intrinsic beauty in rhyming poetry but, of course such works as “The Wasteland” are truly great examples of free verse poetry.
When an annoying young man named Royce
Said “please don’t raise your voice!”,
And I replied, “I am speaking low!”,
And he remarked, “I know!”,
I used a word most choice!
A sign fell.
I can not tell
What it said,
As being blind
I could not read
This fallen thing
Brought down by the wind.
Perhaps it advertised “property for sale”,
Or some such
Stuff at which people clutch.
It was blowing a gale
Yesterday.
I was pleased to come across this review of my collection of poems, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There and Other Poems”. My thanks to Kevin Cooper for taking the time to read and review my book.
There once was a man named Hurd
Who, wishing to fly like a bird
Flapped both of his arms,
Which caused great alarms,
And the vicar to say a rude word!
A bird,
At dusk I left
Singing in the darkening park.
I heard
As I walked away
His song,
And half longed to stay,
But left
My solitary friend
To wend
My way home
Alone, save for his evening hymn,
Which is now a part
Of my oh, so human, heart
Supermarket aisles.
Plastic smiles
And chrysanthemums I bought
As they brought
To mind
My grandfather’s garden, and hours
Spent amongst the scent
Of flowers.
Yet I find
But little scent
In these doctored blooms.
On my way
Through the park today
I did
Snap a twig
And the wind said unto me,
“How easy ’tis, to break a twig,
Or tree”.
A forward young lady named Pam
Maintains an Instagram,
Containing lots and lots
Of hot erotic shots,
But you should see my Instagram …!
—
A forward young lady named Pam
Maintains an Instagram,
Containing lots and lots
Of hot erotic shots,
Or so I’m told by Pam …!
Note: I don’t have an Instagram. Leastways I am not admitting to having one …
Such fruits have I had.
Seduced by the juice
Of the just ripe pear.
Oh yes, I have been there.
Sometimes I have been glad
At the fruits I have had.
The soft peach
And the perfect pear,
Just out of reach,
Has driven me half-mad.
Oh yes, I have been there.
I know
How the low
Bough, laden with maiden
peach and pear
Calls, And how easily it falls
Into the hand of the lover of peach and pear.
Oh yes, I have been there.
Such fruits have I had.
Seduced by the juice
Of the just ripe pear..
Oh yes, I have been there.
