There was a young man named Hogg
Who started a WordPress blog.
It was viewed by him
And a cat named Jim
And was moderated by his girlfriend’s dog!
Category Archives: poetry
There Was A Young Firebrand Called Paul
There was a young firebrand called Paul
Who called for the establishment to fall.
On becoming a peer of the realm
He said “now I’m at the country’s helm
Things don’t look that bad at all …”.
A Kind Of Love
A short skirt and heels
Is his heart’s desire.
She sighs,
Feels objectified
But complies
For the fire
Must be lit
And the money split
With one who
Loves her true.
Hearing Shy Laughter
Hearing shy laughter
I wonder what comes after
This thing
Which ends in no ring.
Poet Kevin Morris To Appear On Vancouver Co-Op Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series, on Thursday 11 January 2018
As mentioned in my post of 30 December 2017, I shall be appearing on Vancouver Co-Op Radio’s, The World Poetry Reading Series, at 9:30 pm (UK time), on Thursday 11 January.
During the course of the programme I shall be discussing (and reading) my poetry.
For anyone who would like to listen but is unable to do so, I aim to link to a podcast of the programme once this becomes available.
There Was A Young Lady Named Bess
There was a young lady named Bess
Who lost her party dress.
A general named Lowe
Said “I shall go
And check the Officer’s Mess!”.
Morning Limericks
There was a young lady named Bell
Who lived in a deep old well.
When people asked “is it wet?”
She replied “you bet
But I like it very well!”.
—
There was a young man named Barry
Who did 2 ladies marry.
He wed them at the same time
But as their names failed to rhyme
He was jailed by a judge named Larry!
There Was A Young Man Named Zeff
There was a young man named Zeff
Who picked a quarrel with death.
He refused to die
(I can’t think why),
Which led to a row with death!
Were I To Walk Barefoot
Were I to walk barefoot
In these leaves
On this cold
Sunny day,
People would say
“He is mad”.
Yet I should be glad
To be free
As the windblown tree
If A Cat Desires Cream
If a cat desires cream
And to attain her dream
Puts her paw
In the candle’s flame,
Who is to blame?
If, desiring more
(But not the flame)
She does the same
Over and over again
Who then is to blame?
The mouse offers cream
To attain his dream
Of a sleek black queen.
Is he then to blame
When she puts her paw
In the Candle’s flame?
In this rhyme bleak
You may your own answer seek
