A man bought tea
For 2 girls, in a pricey hotel.
Then he
And they
Went to stay,
In the same room, of that expensive,
Hotel.
Well,
His pockets where not that extensive,
And he
Did pay for tea …
Tea for 3
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Category Archives: uncategorised
When A Young Lady Who Is Mysterious
When a young lady who is mysterious
Said, “our relationship is not very serious”.
And I said, “that’s great!
Can I date with Kate?”,
Her Right Hook was really quite serious!
A Young Lady Who Is Mysterious
A young lady who is mysterious
Said, “you are far too serious!”.
So I tweeked her nose,
And stamped on her toes,
Which drove that girl delirious!
Stilettos Purchased with Gold
Stilettos purchased with gold,
Delight at night.
But heels grow old.
When Clever Men
When clever men
Hear the clock,
They say,
“We do not
Accept the concept
Of time”.
And the poet composes
A simple rhyme
About roses,
Past their prime.
Girls for Any Occasion
Girls of a certain kind
Prey on his mind.
Black, white or asian.
Girls for any occasion
Can be delivered to his house,
At the click of a mouse.
Or, he can make a girl fall
For the price
Of a phone call.
Is there, objectively
Such a thing as vice?
Company isn’t free
And one must pay the price,
He thinks.
In a darkened corner, the devil winks.
He calculates,
And being alone,
Picks up the phone,
And dates.
A Review of “The Selected Poems of K Morris”
I recently shared a link to my “selected Poems” with a colleague, and was delighted to receive the below review from her by email:
“Wow I’ve managed to read a through and I love your poetry.
Very eloquent and soft”.
For “The Selected Poems of K Morris” please follow this link, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/.
When I Invited A Girl Named Bland
When I invited a girl named Bland
To my home for a one-night stand,
It was really quite boring,
And I ended up snoring,
As all she’d do was to stand!
Roses
A rose,
So unposed.
It’s petals,
Naturally spread,
And settled
In it’s bed.
A flash
Of bright light,
As the photographer composes,
Cash,
Out of roses,
For the connoisseur’s delight.
The Song of the Siren
Lashed to the mast,
You ride
The tide
Of pain and pleasure.
The weather
Is hot.
Sirens sunbathe,
And say, “let go”.
You know
You ought not,
But the girls are so hot,
And the reef
Of grief
Below
Seems hidden, and all you see
Is a beautiful she.
So, you let go
And, at your leisure
Go down
And drown
In the sea
Of pain and pleasure.
But, long
‘Ere you did see
Those cold, calculating eyes,,
You recognised
Her siren song.
And yet
You did choose
To lose
Yourself in the sea of regret,
Where men go down
And drown,
And drown again,
In pleasure, and pain.
K Morris - Poet 