I have heard
A solitary bird
Sing to me
From a tree
In the park
As the dark
Came softly down.
I have found
In his song
Melancholy and beauty
For that is part
Of mine own heart.
I am sweet birdsong,
Love, lust and dust.
I know a young lady named Pearl
Who is a wicked and filthy girl!
When she enters my study
Her feet are so muddy
That I berate that filthy Miss Pearl!
When a philosophical young lady named Gwen
Climbed to the top of Big Ben,
And a policeman called Lyme
Said, “tell me the time”.
“Time has no real existence”, said Gwen!
A young lady whose name is Leigh
Has grown so tired of her celibacy
That she attends vicar’s parties
Whilst dressed as pink smarties,
Where she enjoys lots of hot tea!
While at college
The mower would pass
Across the grass.
Back then my knowledge
Failed to say
That sweet springing grass
Must turn to hay.
Safe in my flat
In the early morning
I hear the birds
And ponder on cats.
There is no divine
Merely the purring feline,
Part of great nature.
The imponderable creator
Of little man.
A young lady whose name is Hocking
Is known for wearing only 1 stocking.
Her friend bishop Ron
Wears the other one,
As he’s very broad minded like Hocking!
I know a young lady named Gwen
Who is fond of S and M.
We met at a dinner party
With the great and the literati,
Who all deny knowing me and Gwen!
Your long nails brushed
Against my startled fingers.
A thing not meant,
Yet the memory lingers.
Some other will explore
To their full extent
The pleasure of nails,
Not for me meant.
When a young man whose name was Ted
Lay bleeding to death on my new bed
And he said, with a sigh,
I know that I shall die”.
I said, “Ted! Your ruining my new bed!”
K Morris - Poet 