K Morris Poet

I have often desired

To play with fire

Though I know

The hot coal

Will sear my soul.

I have frequently said

“Come to bed”.

We undressed.

She caressed

And love was dead.

A girl’s youthful arms have their charms.

But by morning’s bright light

How often have men awoken from dream

And seen they grow old.

	K Morris Poet on Dodgy Geezer
	V.M.Sang on Dodgy Geezer
	K Morris Poet on Aphrodite’s Nightie
	V.M.Sang on Aphrodite’s Nightie
	K Morris Poet on All to Dust

K Morris – Poet