In early December
I heard
The dawn bird
And did remember
Another year
Will soon end.
My friends
Are growing older.
I hear
Pretty young women
Ask me
About family matters.
There will be
No more sinning.
Merely hot tea
And matters
Of domesticity
For me.
I know a young lady named Kate
Who is fond of the word undulate.
That old rake Paul
Says, “many women fall.
But Miss Kate she likes to undulate!”.
I haven’t heard
The night bird
For some time.
Yet his cry
Survives in rhyme
And will outlast
The final blast
That ends
My mind.
When a wicked young lady named Spink
Indulged with me in her little kink,
That moral Miss Hocking
Found it so shocking
That she turned to very strong drink!
There once was a fox named Mark
Who lived in a very dark park.
A hen called Gwen
Visited him at 10
And was wined and dined by Mark!
As for me
I do not agree
With the inevitability
Of progress. Good poetry
And friends
Are ends
In themselves.
Give me
Oak bookshelves
Laden with treasures.
These are the pleasures
I would have
To make me glad.
There was a young lady named Bess
Who was known for her short dress.
All the clerics passing by
Would give her the eye.
Then rush off, their sins to confess!
Where she to kiss me
I would think my day
Had not run aimlessly away.
Yet she will survive
When Time’s great scythe
Has struck me dumb.
‘Tis fun
To dream of the Fairy queen
But I shall be cold
Long ere she is old
So why dream my little day
Aimlessly away?
While paddling in the great river Nile
I was joined by a huge crocodile.
I cracked a joke
Which made him choke.
Then I complimented him on his style!
While swinging from the great Big Ben
I spied a young lady named Gwen.
When I said, “come here”.
She replied, “no way dear!
Big Ben is about to strike 10!”
K Morris - Poet 