When a young lady named Balinda
Met a firey gentleman through Tinder,
She thought something was quite wrong
As he had horns very long,
Which frightened that young lady Balinda!
When A Young Lady Named Balinda
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Category Archives: musings
When The Wife of a Man Named Ed
When the wife of a man named Ed
Found a strange girls shoes under their bed
She said, with a sigh
“I really don’t know why
You must insist on wearing those stilettos, Ed!”.
A Young Lady Whose Name Was Claire
A young lady whose name was Claire
Had beautiful, long brown hair,
But when it did rain
She cried out in pain,
As her hair it turned quite fair!
Autumn has Come To Me
Autumn has come to me.
I see
The fallen tree
As I walk through the wood.
Though many a tree
Remains good,
I think on the fallen one
(Not long gone),
On Brexit,
An exit
And parliamentary democracy.
Rooms at Different Times Produce Diverse Rhymes
Rooms at different times
Produce
Diverse rhymes.
A girl’s perfume
In a darkened room
May seduce
A man into penning a rhyme
About lust.
Do not condemn
Such men
For there will be time
Enough for dust.
All Heels, and Hair
All heels, and hair
And legs.
No beds
For him,
Just dreams of sin
With her
Who does care
Not for him.
When A Young Man Named Gus
When a young man named Gus
Quoted Thomas Malthus on the bus,
A few passengers fell sound asleep
Whilst others did most bitterly weep,
But the driver he didn’t fuss!
the World Poetry Canada International Peace Poetathon 2019
The World Poetry Reading Series, is running the World Poetry Canada International Peace Poetathon 2019.
To find out more, or to enter please follow this link, http://worldpoetry.ca/?page_id=14662.
The Wheel
Some play roulette
And regret
Nought until they choose
To lose
All on the wheel,
That can not feel
Others choose
To lose
All and fall
For a good time girl.
The wheel
Will whirl
And they feel
The thrill of sin.
Some poets spin
A rhyme
About a good time
Girl and the roulette
Wheel that goes round
In circles of regret.
But ’tis nothing profound.
Poetry Dies
Poetry dies
In eyes
That did see
Into eternity.
But, perhaps, lives on
After the poet has gone
In words which, maybe
Touch you and me
With their profundity
