I know a young lady named Claire
Whose feet are always bare.
When the weather turns freezing
You may hear her sneezing,
But Claire, she just doesn’t care!
I Know A Young Lady Named Claire
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Category Archives: creative writing
The Brexit Party Romps Home
The Brexit
Party romps home
Clamouring for the exit
While I (far from alone)
Retain a fading hope for remain.
Boris Johnson spoke of “polishing a turd”.
Those who shout loudest are to often heard.
The word is brexit.
We are heading for the exit,
Yet I retain
A fading hope for remain.
He Begged
He begged.
She resisted.
He persisted
Until, worn down by him
She gave in
To his sin.
They bedded.
He regretted.
But the din
Of conscience within
Can not undo sin
I am skin, sin, lust and dust
I am skin,
Sin,
Lust
And dust.
And one day I shall be thrust
Into a place
Where no trace
Of who I am now will be found
For underground
There is no sin or lust,
Only dust
Which once was thee or me
When An Extremely Precocious AI
When an extremely precocious AI
Said, “Truly I am a guy!”,
A philosophy student named Paul
Said, “you are no guy at all!”,
Which angered that precocious AI!
Crash
Door slamming.
Heels on deserted pavements echo
The lure of cash.
The girl’s heart beats fast.
An act;
Her life a car crash.
—
(“Crash” can be found in “The Girl Who Wasn’t There and Other Poems”, which is available in the Amazon Kindle store and can be found here, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0155KSKOC/.
The Wind Did Sing
The wind
Did sing
To me
Of eternity,
And bring
My consciousness round
To the profound sound
Of it’s song
In the graveyard tree
Making me,
For a moment, free
When I Met A Pretty Young Maid
When I met a pretty young maid
Who on a violin played,
And I asked, “can I fiddle?”
She played “Hey Diddle Diddle,
And said, sir, “you have not yet paid . . .”.
YouClean for Me
You clean for me.
I see
You mop and vacuum,
But your room
I do not see.
I pay your fee
Which all agree
is only just
For you dust
For me.
You iron my clothes
And clean my loo,
But heaven knows
I know little about you,
Who clean my loo.
The English Oak
When Brexit has been and gone
The English oak will live on
And continue to provide sanctuary
Under it’s all-embracing shade
To lad and maid
Of every race. For a tree
Does not discriminate, or hate.
K Morris - Poet 