When, before 9 am
I hear the clink
Of bottles, I think
On the fine line
Between those who,
Like me
Drink coffee
Or Tea.
And enjoy a pint or 2
(In the afternoon or evening),
And men
Who, before 9 am
Bottles chink
On the quiet street
That does go
Down to Skid Row.
A chance meet.
2 acquaintences greet
And eat.
That night
They did smile
And make polite
Conversation while,
In the background
Behind each word
Was heard
The tick tock
Of her biological clock
Her flirty conversation.
His anticipation
Grew, whilst through
Each word
Could be heard
Tick tock, tick tock.
A tentative invitation to come in
For coffee or tea.
They did chat
About this and that.
Then, she took her hat
And was gone,
Whilst the tick tock
Of the clock
At the head
Of his bed
Continued on,
Unloved
On the empty
Woodland path
The birds sing,
But not for me
This spring.
As I pass
Along this desolate path
I laugh
At the idea
That the birds I hear
Could sing
For me in spring.
There are many ointments
For stings
And similar things.
And, for life’s disappointments
There is art,
Which, though it may not cause the heart
To sing
May, perchance, ease the sting
Of the she
Who rejects thee.
On going to bed last night
I saw a young lady with a kite.
When I asked, “what are you doing here?”
She said, “the night being drear
And your window so near,
I flew in here with this kite!”.
I am rested today.
I shall stay that way,
Getting plenty of sleep
But, sooner or later
This prater
Will, his toil
Cease, and find peace
In nature’s good soil,
For I maintain
That none can foil
The reaper of grain.
Dusk must come,
And the setting sun
Mark Time
For rhyme.
When a young lady whose name is Lou
Danced on the table at 2,
The restaurant’s manager Mike
Said, “your dancing I like,
But do you think you could serve now, Lou?”
When a young lady of Vienna
Asked me to lend her a tenner,
To mend her door,
I said, “you will need more,
As a tenner won’t go far in Vienna!
When a foolish young man named Meek
Challenged me to a duel this week,
And I said, “pistols at dawn!”,
He looked most forlorn,
As Dawn is on holiday this week!
K Morris - Poet 