I have stood
And walked
Through the wood
And thought
On nymphs who bring delight
In woods
To passersby such as I.
I have sought for Aphrodite
Amidst the flowering tree
And have heard the birds
Sing in hopeful spring.
But now Autumn has come
And no Aphrodite
Sings to me.
A young lady who calls herself Honey
Likes to dress as the Easter bunny.
After food and wine
We crossed that line –
Then that bunny she stole my money!
Happy Easter to all of my readers!
How soon the scent
Of blossom is spent
In the rain.
These little flowers
No not hours,
While I pass by
In unending rain.
I have taken delight
In Waitresses at night
And in the morning find
The same cold rain
And thoughts of the waitress
I so lovingly undressed
In my so fertile mind.
Some men take their pleasure
Amidst the sweet heather
With a pretty young lass.
But all grass
Turns to hay
And the poor poet’s lay
Must end in dust.
When I met a philosopher of this nation
Who said, “we’re all living in a simulation”.
I gave him a big kick
And whacked him with a stick,
Which was fine as we’re in a simulation!
You took your shoes
And left me alone in my flat.
Your right to choose,
I can’t argue against that.
Fantasies oft run riot
In a man’s fevered head.
Better to stay quiet,
For such things can not be unsaid.
Poets compose rhyme
In perfect time
To love and art
While the newsreaders tell
How We’re going to hell
In a battered old handcart.
In the early morn
The carpet is warm
Under my feet
As I recall
How leaves fall
In the wood nearby.
The seasons repeat.
But I will die.
There was a young lady named Pam
Who liked to gorge on boiled ham.
When they said, “you’re a pig!”,
She would chew on her wig
As she rolled in marmalade and jam!
