August has long since ceased to be.
Upon the forest floor,
The oak and chestnut has shed it store,
Unceremoniously, of conker and acorn.
Mulch for the lawn.
Now leaves feed the ground.
—
(The above is an Acrostic Acrostic – Wikipedia. And can be found in my poetry collection “Light and Shade, which is available from Amazon in Kindle and paperback, Light and Shade; serious (and not so serious) poems eBook : Morris, K: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store).
Provider of pleasure.
Romance isn’t free.
Oldest profession
Some say.
Time has a price
In your brief arms.
The clock jingles.
Under the sheet
They meet.
Eagerness of him.
Some say sin.
Poet Kevin Morris reading a further selection of his work.
A talented young man, whilst using bostik
Composed an extremely fine acrostic,
Which went on for ages
And covered 50 large pages,
But the critics response was really caustic!
Underneath,
Nakedness.
Desired.
Riotous imaginings in his head.
Every man has his fantasy.
She, sliding out of clothes.
Slowly exposing an untried rose
Sex on legs.
Thoughts of beds
Invade his head.
Lust will drive him insane,
Each interviewee, different but, somehow all the same.
“Those shoes, why did she choose
To wear them?
Only to please men?”,
Still, the stiletto shoe, may clinch the interview.
Poetry maybe, for better or worse,
Of the kind we call free verse.
Each muse does her poet choose,
Though some may say, that I lie.
Evening, your dress
Short. Your bought
Caress
Offered only to
Rich men when
They pay for you.
K Morris - Poet 