When a young lady named Leigh
Invited me round for tea,
And she and miss Hocking
Lost more than a stocking,
They made me spill my tea!
My invitation to Tea
Leave a reply
Category Archives: poems
When I Met Young Women At Dice
When I met young women at dice
Who said, “sir, are you into vice?”,
And I said, “i’m not into betting”,
They said, “but, surely you’re not forgetting,
That there are many forms of vice!”.
Sometimes I Think We Poets Obsess Too Much On Grim Death
Sometimes I think we poets obsess
Too much on grim death.
We hear the blackbird sing
And say “the flowers that bloom
In spring,
And this bird, so full of joy,
Time will destroy,
All too soon”.
We obsess
Over the maid
In her white
dress,
And say, “she will fade
Into the eternal night”.
Yet there is much delight
In the maid,
And when, into the night
Poet and maid
fade,
They may leave to posterity,
More than poetry.
Interview
I can imagine you
Minus sock
And shoe.
That would certainly shock.
But you
Are too
Prim and proper
To come a cropper
In that interview!
Shadow
I see
Me,
Indistinct,
As a shadow,
And think,
This sunny day
And my shadow,
Must fade away
Euphemise
You may imprison
A name
In a euphemism,
To avoid shame,
But it will get free
And be
Known all the same.
Out of discretion,
Or, to avoid pain
You may euphemise
A profession,
But behind those enigmatic eyes
Lies,
The same, much traduced,
Ancient name.
When A Young Lady Named Leigh
When a young lady named Leigh
Said, “I want to be on page 3!”,
Her friend, the Right Reverend John
Said, “page 3 has long gone,
But there’s a photographer whose known to me”.
