When a young lady wearing tight shoes
Said, “I shall tell you my views
On the subject of politics,
And dogs who chase sticks.”
I said, “just pass me the booze!”.
A Young Lady Wearing Tight Shoes
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A Young Lady Wearing Very Tight Shoes
A young lady wearing very tight shoes
Said, “I shall tell you my views
On the subject of politics,
And dogs who chase sticks.
But first, I must change these shoes!”.
There Once Was A Man Named Ray
There once was a man named Ray
Who composed a poem once a day.
A young lady called Rose
Said, “that’s nought but prose.
And your hair has turned quite grey!”.
A Poem From My “Selected Poems”
The traffic noise momentarily fades.
No words,
Just the singing of birds,
And a yearning for woodland glades.
(“Indefinable” can be found in my Selected Poems”, which is available here:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07WW8WXPP/ (for the UK), and here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/. (for amazon.com customers).
Fine Rain
I get wet
By this fine
Rain.
Yet,
I do not regret
For the divine
Is in the rain.
I shall get wet
Again
For when
Death does steal
Me away.
I regret
That I shall no longer feel,
The joy of a rainy day.
All Poemed Out
When a young man named Prout
Said, “you are all poemed out!”.
I gave him a poke
And said, “sir, you joke!”.
And then I kicked Prout out!
A Young Lady Walking In A beautiful Wood
a young lady walking in a beautiful wood
Said, “sir, I am known for being good.
My name is miss Bess
And I’ve lost my dress.
Have you found it here in this wood?”.
A Young Lady Wearing 1 Stiletto
A young lady wearing 1 stiletto
Was extremely fond of chocolate gateau.
Being imperfect at rhyme
She spent her time
Entertaining gentlemen whilst covered in gateau.
I Once Had A Friend Named Hogg
I once had a friend named Hogg
Who lived by an ancient peat bog.
When I said, “your sister,
I just cant resist her”,
It ended in that ancient peat bog!
Meaning Is In The Eye Of The Reader
In response to a comment by me on her post entitled “The infinity of Destinies”, Veronica comments as follows:
“If I told you my own vision, the mystery would be gone, don’t you agree?”. (see https://thewavesofpoetry.com/2020/07/12/the-infinity-of-destinies-dedicated-to-e/).
As a poet, I do indeed agree with Veronica. Every reader puts his or her own interpretation upon a poem or any other piece of writing. What the creator of art intended is, frequently not what the reader, the viewer of the painting Etc, interprets. And herein resides the joy and beauty of artistic creation.
In my poem “Raining”, I describe awaking to the sound of “rain drumming on my window pane”. On reading “Raining”, a friend’s teenage son commented that he thought the rain was “crying”. This is not something which I (the poet) had ever considered when penning the poem. I can, however understand why my friend’s son interprets “Raining” as he does, and I certainly do not dismiss his interpretation of the poem.
The truth of the matter is this. Once a poem, short story, novel or any other artistic creation is made available to the public, those exposed to it will, inevitably put their own interpretation upon that creation. And they have every right to do so. This is part of the joy of creativity – that it provokes differing interpretations.
As always, I would be interested in the views of my readers.
Kevin
K Morris - Poet 