Shall spring flowers stay
To play
With a gray
Winter’s day?
Some say
Nay
Flowers gay
Will not stay
For a gray
Winter’s day.
Yet I shall be bold
And venture to say
That gold
Is a powerful aphrodisiac
Which the poor man does lack
And which may
Smooth the way
For a gray
Winter’s day
To play
With spring flowers gay.
I was pleased to receive the following recent review of my short story, “Samantha” on Goodreads:
“A powerful and well-written story”.
You can find the above review here, https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1260963716?book_show_action=true&from_review_page=1.
To read more reviews of “Samantha” or to purchase my book, please visit, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00BL3CNHI/.
There was a young man called Clive
Who sat on a beehive.
With a pearcing scream
He awoke from his dream,
That fortunate young man called Clive!
There was a young lady called Claire
Who met me on the stair.
Her sister Lou
Saw us two
And gave a knowing stare …
—
There was a young lady called Clare
Who met me on the stair.
My mistress Lou
Was feeling blue
So joined us on the stair …
When a girl does acquiesce
To a lover’s caress
And undress,
The honest man must confess
That sometimes he
Finds an ordinary she
And the thought,
The silk and lace,
The chase
Are all
And the fall
Naught.
There was a young academic called Moore
Who did her studies adore.
She gave me tuition
Which led to perdition.
That studious young lady called Moore!
I know a young lady called Ling
Who is extremely left-wing.
But on meeting a man called Night
Who is of the centre-right
I confess they had a fling!
A philosophical young lady called Mable
Dressed in the colour sable.
When a young man named Guy
Asked her “why?”
She said “Existence is merely a fable!”.
There was a young lady called Moore
Who all the men adore.
When she fluttered her eye
At a priest named Guy
He thought on the Canon Law!
K Morris - Poet 