I was delighted to receive a review, on Ink Pantry of my book, “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems”.
For the review please follow this link, http://www.inkpantry.com/books-from-the-pantry-the-writers-pen-and-other-poems-by-kevin-morris-reviewed-by-giles-l-turnbull/
Kevin
There was a young man named Moore
Who had lovers by the score.
But his wife Jane
Began to complain,
So he cut them down to 4!
When he asked her to dress that way,
There was nothing to say
Other than for her
To concur
With his wish,
For a man must have his favourite dish.
Did she care
About what she had to do?
The high-heel shoe
She already had, and the short dress
To. Although I must confess
That I know not
What she thought. But, at any rate
Her recompense
Was great
Redress for any sense
That she was being abused
(And girls choose
To wear such shoes
Do they not)?
And his expense
Was huge.
As for the aftermath,
She took a bath,
While prior to sleep
He counted sheep
Its true
That double beds are made for 2
But when tea
Turns into wine
3 can be divine.
Or so I understand
From a girl named Bland,
Who says that she
Can introduce me …
There was a young man named Glover
Who fell in love with a plover.
But when his love was unrequited
With a flighty young woman he united,
Which didn’t please his mother!
—
There was a young man named Glover
Who fell in love with a plover.
But when his love was unrequited
With a flighty young woman he united,
That foolish young man named Glover!
When a young lady whose name is Heather
Went out in windy weather,
She wore an extremely short dress,
Which I must confess
Was not exactly clever!
A young lady whose name is Bland
Said, “your wish is my command”!
So I whispered in her ear.
But oh consequences most drear,
I received the back of her hand!
A flirty young lady named Lou
Lost her party shoe.
But a vicar called Ned
Found it under his bed,
Which pleased that young lady Lou!
A girl in heels
And scars
Sees not the stars
Above, but feels
The rhythmic motion
Of a rising ocean
Coming to the boil.
Soon the bob, throb
Of the ship will cease.
Bringing peace
From her toil.
But there must be
Another captain of the sea
To receive the charms
Of heels and scars
Until his ship lies becalmed
In arms
Struggling to see
The stars
The ring
Of lustre pure
Is a thing
Of desire
To many men
But, when
Man does explore
The prize
As yet Untried,
To the very core
Oh how soon the fire
Does Expire
For that particular thing.
K Morris - Poet 