I know a young lady named Lou
Who got stuck in a pot of glue.
When I said, “you’re a snob!”
She called me a yob!
She’s always been stuck up has Lou!
Lou Who Got Stuck in Glue
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Category Archives: literature
Secret Desires
Dreams may express our secret desires.
Those hidden fires
From which many recoil
When awake.
Yet, some partake
And even pour oil
On their dreams.
Their fantasy burns
And turns into reality.
Ere banality returns
And secret shame burns.
Winter Solstice
The wall clock ticks.
We have reached the Winter Solstice.
The ache in my shoulder
Says, I grow older.
But, after tonight
The evenings will slowly turn bright
And bare trees
Bring forth leaves.
The longest day will come.
The winter solstice
Will return once more.
But the great see
Must, one day
Sweep all this away
Leaving nothing behind.
Yet we still dance
A Decadent Young Lady Named Lou
A decadent young lady named Lou
Is coming round to mine at two.
We’ll have a lot to drink
But its not what you think!
As the bishop will be there too …!
Miss Green Who Lives in a Washing Machine
I met a young lady named Green
Who lives in a washing machine.
We went at great speed
To fulfill that girl’s need,
And then I awoke from that dream!
Surface
A shadow in the bathroom glass.
What I see
Is the public me.
And when I pass
There will be
No me to see
Merely soulless glass.
Yet reflected back
In the verse I leave behind
Some may find
In my rhyme
The black
And white we call art.
Now in the mirror I see
The surface me.
And not my heart.
A Man Who Calls Himself James
A man who calls himself James
Is known by many other names.
Some call him Nevile
And others the Devil –
I’ve seen James dance in flames!
Sirens and Birds
I heard sirens and birds
As I stood
In the darkening wood.
Later, when the sirens where gone
The birds sang on
As I passed through
The churchyard
Pondering on what is true
Bare
“The trees are bare”, you said.
The sun shone
And our 2 dogs ran on
Unaware their autumn
Must come. And a gentle breeze
Blew through grasses.
When young lovers kiss amidst spring flowers
In their urgent need
They fail to heed
How our hours are fragile as glass.
Spring and summer pass.
We come to autumn
And the bare tree speaks of mortality.
Table Dancing
I know a young lady named Spink
Who is extremely fond of a drink.
Her and Miss Mabel
Dance on the table
When we gentlemen buy them a drink …
K Morris - Poet 