When a young lady named Rose
Said, “as for me, anything goes!”.
I said, “that’s great!”,
Then, me and Kate
Tweaked that big nose of Rose!
Rose for Whom Anything Goes
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Category Archives: poetry
There Was a Young Lady Named Fay
There was a young lady named Fay,
Who they say came from the USA.
She was a Confederate bride
But history’s great rolling tide
Has swept Fay and the Confederacy away.
(I am currently reading Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. For anyone who is unaware of the plot of the novel, it deals with the American Civil War and its impact on the Confederate states of America, both during and after the war. Hence I thought it would be interesting to compose a limerick about those times).
When We Are All Categorised
When we are all categorised
And government’s eyes
Can find the inner mind.
We, the fool
Will have let scientists rule.
But, perhaps in some places
We will kick over the traces,
And say “no!”, to the rule.
There Once Was a Poor Rhymer Named Gus
There once was a poor rhymer named Gus
Who, on becoming overwhelmed with wickedness and lust,
Entered a house of ill repute
Where he played upon his flute.
As the girls sang, “poetry, ‘tis but dust!”.
Volumes Fill My Room
Volumes fill my room.
A girl’s sweet perfume
May make me smile
For a little while.
Poetry survives, our brief lives.
Whilst the linger of fingers
From the present time,
Are caught in rhyme
I Cut Bread
I cut bread
And momentarily forget.
Then, a smile, tinged with regret.
You are dead.
There will be
No Labrador nose, to deprive me
Of my tea.
The Philosophical Rake
“Shall I
Let life pass me by?
At night
Comes the pleasure of sinning
With women
Of a rather particular kind.
Yet beyond the delight
Of sinning and women
I find
The night
Where love and lust
Are nought but dust.”
Kate’s Date
There once was a traffic warden named Kate
Who decided to go out on a date.
When her date Lyme
Was not on time,
She fined him for being 1 minute late!
Bess’s Confession
When a young lady named Bess
Said, “I must my sins confess!”.
I said, “please cease!
I’m not a priest!
And put back on your dress!”.
Claire and Rose
When a young lady named Claire
Suggested we all have an affair
And she and Rose
Took off their clothes.
I awoke right then and there.
K Morris - Poet 