When a pretty young lady named Miss Lou
Said, “you should take care what you do
As there are young women
To tempt you into sinning,
I said, “yes, I’ll see you at 2 …!”
The Dangers of Sinning
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Category Archives: poetry
Leaving the Freezing Dark
Leaving the freezing dark
Of the silent park
The house lights
Punctuate my night.
We huddle in houses
With lovers and spouses
While the night
Mocks our temporary light
When a Young Lady Who is Exotic
When a young lady who is exotic
Suggested that we do something very erotic,
I said to her, “Lou,
I would really love to,
But my wife she is very despotic!”.
My Shadow Goes
My shadow goes
In front of me
On a cold
Though sunny December day.
Behind the sunshine
I often see
A cold shadow grow.
But is that me?
When An Adventurous Young Lady Named Miss Fay
When an adventurous young lady named Miss Fay
Invited us all to play in the hay,
The squire’s Beagle
Discovered a needle,
And the squire made hay with Miss Fay!
A Much Widowed Young Lady Named Lake
A much widowed young lady named Lake
Has baked many men in a cake.
She is extremely pretty
And really quite witty,
But I really don’t fancy Lake’s cake …!
A Man Who is a Terrible Sinner
A man who is a terrible sinner
Came round to mine for his dinner.
His name being Paul
He ate it all.
As for me? I grew much thinner!
In Early December
In early December
November’s leaves still adorn
The woodland lawn.
Man’s pattern is made
In light and shade.
But the gardener’s rake
Rakes all leaves.
A Fallen Tree
On 3 December, I published this poem, https://kmorrispoet.com/2022/12/03/i-passed-a-log/. Below is a slightly reworked version of my composition entitled A Fallen Tree:
A fallen tree
Spoke to me
On a
December day.
Once it stood
In ancient wood.
Now I
Pass by
As December grows colder
And I ever older.
I Would Rather Delve
I would rather delve
Into dusty bookshelves.
There are other pleasures,
But the treasures
Of literature stay
While a girl’s smile
Soon fades away.
Yet, literature has no arms
And, on a December day
Young women’s charms
May tempt me away
From my dust covered books
To girl’s who’s looks
Must fade to dust,
Though today they may play.
K Morris - Poet 