When a young lady named Miss Flow
Said, “you must always write what you know”,
I wrote about her
And our sordid affair –
Now I’m corresponding with her lawyer called Joe …!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Always Write What you Know
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Category Archives: poetry
Wine on the Ward
There once was a nurse named Maude
Who worked on a large hospital ward.
A patient called Divine
Sneaked in some wine,
So they kicked her off that ward!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
I am bored.
I am bored, but alive
And appear to thrive.
The hospital food is good,
But too much pud
Will make me very fat,
So I avoid that!
..
I don’t miss my beer
As much as I thought I would,
But I wish I could
Make the day less drear with beer!
..
I hear the seagulls cry
And I would fly
Away if I could
But I am stuck here
In this place drear.
Yet I am still alive
And appear to thrive!
..
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Juliette the Vet
There was a young lady named Juliette
Who got a job as a vet.
A crocodile called Nile
Gave her a smile
As he ate that vet named Juliette.
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Hyacinths in a Hospital Garden
I knelt and smelt
Hyacinths in the hospital garden.
Their scent
Was delicate and sweet.
.
The next time I went
To that self-same garden
Their scent
Had already been spent.
.
I grow much stronger,
Yet ponder
On a hospital garden
And scent
So soon spent.
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris
Just Heels
I know a young lady in heels
Who loves to swim with the seals.
Her name it is Rose
And she wears no clothes –
But she does keep on her heels!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris
Twilight
Just a single, solitary, call,
From a bird heard in the hospital garden
As the twilight
Was swallowed by night.
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris
Maddy’s Rich Sugar Daddy
A beautiful young lady named Maddy
Is seeking a rich Sugar Daddy.
But I, being poor
Am dating Miss Moore,
Who is less attractive than Maddy!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris
The Same Old Way
We go on in the same old way,
Until, one day,
We brush against the Reaper, who will say,
“Man’s day is brief
And must end in grief”.
Then he may smile
And pass by for a while.
But he will return one day
For we are clay.
.
Or we simply fall asleep
And fail to wake.
Sometimes friends and family weep.
But the Reaper takes
And never returns.
Therefore we should learn
To spend our days
In joyful play
For we know not
When or what.
Copyright: Kevin Morris
In My Dreams
In my dreams, it sometimes seems
That the owl calls to me.
I can not see
Where he may be.
Yet his voice is clear
And I hear him near
Calling to me.
.
He speaks to me
Of my mortality
Reminding me of Macbeth
And approaching death,
And yet he
Does not bother me,
For we all
Must, one day, fall.
.
Copyright: K. Morris.
K Morris - Poet 