There was a young lady from Bristol
Who shot me with her pistol.
I said with disdain
“I feel no pain.
Throw down that water pistol!”.
There Was A Young Lady From Bristol
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Author Archives: K Morris Poet
There Was A Young Lady Called Rose
There was a young lady called Rose
Who had a remarkably long nose.
When the tide covered all
I do recall
That a poem she did compose.
PorterGirl – The Vanishing Lord only 99p !
Lucy’s writing is invariably brings a smile to my face.
“Magna Est Veritas”, by Coventry Patmore
Here, in this little Bay,
Full of tumultuous life and great repose,
Where, twice a day,
The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world’s course will not fail:
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not.
An Observation
The moralist judgement passes
On men in glasses
Who make passes
At pretty lasses.
While the wise observe that those who criticise,
Will never find favour in a girl’s bright eyes.
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/observe/).
Shall I Write A Poem Risque
Shall I write a poem risqué
About a girl called Fay?
As you know
I am not that way
At all,
Being pure as the snow
That does fall
On an inner city street
Where Fay’s feet
Clip clop
In heels high,
Causing a passing guy
To stop
And give Fay the eye …
There Was A Young Lady From France
There was a young lady from France
Who liked to sing and dance
Her looks were exotic
And she was very erotic
So I didn’t stand a chance …
There Once Was An Author Called Kate
There once was an author called Kate
With whom I had a date.
She stayed up all night
And did nought but write
So that was our only date!
There Was A Young Lady Called Ming
There was a young lady called Ming
With whom I had a fling.
Our affair twas brief
And ended in grief
When I eloped with her sister Ling …
Guest Barista: Kevin Morris/Oft of a summer’s day
My thanks to Go Dog Go Café for hosting me on their blog and publishing my poem “Oft of a Summer’s Day”.
Oft of a summer’s day
Have I turned away
To write.
I shall go out tomorrow
And forget my words
In the singing of birds.
But when night
Falls, I shall return what I borrow
From my ever present friend
Old Father Time
And my brief rhyme
Shall reach it’s end.
Kevin Morris was born in Liverpool (UK) on 6 January 1969.
Having graduated with a BA (joint hons) in history and politics and a
MA in political theory, from University College of Swansea, Kevin
moved to London where he now lives and works.
Kevin began writing poetry in 2012. Being blind he uses a standard
Windows computer with a screen reader called Jaws, which transcribes
print into speech and braille.
Kevin blogs at newauthoronline.com, where many of his poems can be
found, together with links to his published works.
