A myriad leaves fall down
Tis many a long day
Since the gray
Hair were brown
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Category Archives: poems
There Was A Young Lady From Bristol
There was a young lady from Bristol
Who shot me with her pistol.
I said with disdain
“I feel no pain.
Throw down that water pistol!”.
There Was A Young Lady Called Rose
There was a young lady called Rose
Who had a remarkably long nose.
When the tide covered all
I do recall
That a poem she did compose.
“Magna Est Veritas”, by Coventry Patmore
Here, in this little Bay,
Full of tumultuous life and great repose,
Where, twice a day,
The purposeless, glad ocean comes and goes,
Under high cliffs, and far from the huge town,
I sit me down.
For want of me the world’s course will not fail:
When all its work is done, the lie shall rot;
The truth is great, and shall prevail,
When none cares whether it prevail or not.
An Observation
The moralist judgement passes
On men in glasses
Who make passes
At pretty lasses.
While the wise observe that those who criticise,
Will never find favour in a girl’s bright eyes.
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/observe/).
Shall I Write A Poem Risque
Shall I write a poem risqué
About a girl called Fay?
As you know
I am not that way
At all,
Being pure as the snow
That does fall
On an inner city street
Where Fay’s feet
Clip clop
In heels high,
Causing a passing guy
To stop
And give Fay the eye …
There Was A Young Lady From France
There was a young lady from France
Who liked to sing and dance
Her looks were exotic
And she was very erotic
So I didn’t stand a chance …
There Once Was An Author Called Kate
There once was an author called Kate
With whom I had a date.
She stayed up all night
And did nought but write
So that was our only date!
There Was A Young Lady Called Ming
There was a young lady called Ming
With whom I had a fling.
Our affair twas brief
And ended in grief
When I eloped with her sister Ling …
Philosophers Disagree On What It Is To Be Free
Shall I confess?
She wore not a dress
But standard issue jeans.
The scenes
Enacted
Impacted
And she
And me
Played our bit part
In this drama of sin.
No words of love were spoken
And the heart
Was unbroken.
Yet one may still regret
Or not as the case may be.
Philosophers disagree
On what it is to be free.
And I think on she
And me.
K Morris - Poet 