The changeless wind, in the bushes.
Civilisation rushes
Ever faster.
Then, the disaster
Of corona, makes everything, slow.
Yet I
See bees go,
Busily by.
The Changeless Wind, in the Bushes
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Tag Archives: blogging
Cottage Pie
A young man named Guy
Offered me some cottage pie
It had stones and window frames.
So I said, “I’ll refrain.
Would you like a shepherd’s eye?”.
When I Said To My Friend May
When I said to my friend May,
“Do you work for the CIA?”,
She said, with a big smile,
“You have such wit and style.
I don’t want to kill you today!”.
Clock Watching
Firm breasts
To caress.
A most private place
For him To trace.
Her socks
Kept on.
He could not
Command the hands
Of the clock
Which moved, inexorably, on.
I Met A Young Lady On Zoom
I met a young lady on Zoom
Who said she lived on the moon.
I said, “in that famous old nursery rhyme,
Which has been around for such a long time,
Why did the cow jump over the moon?”.
The Castle
When a young lady named Claire
Built a castle in the air,
And her sister May
Went there to stay.
She found no fine castle there!
Claire
A young lady named Clair
Said, “Sir, you should take great care,
As there are so many young Women
Who do nothing but sinning.
Now sir, shall we mount the stair?”.
Lou
“Oh Lou, do take off your shoe,
And let down your long blonde hair”.
“There is no harm in that sir.
And as for my shoe,
I’ll do that for you.
But, sir I have 2?”.
“Lou, take off both your shoe”.
“Sir, you must mean shoes.
I beg you to use
Correct grammar, as all gentlemen should!”.
“Dear Lou, please would
You remove your stockings?”.
“Sir, cease your mocking.
I’m not wearing stockings!”.
“Oh dear Lou, that all-in-one
Dress could soon be gone.
Please, do take it off”.
“Sir, you are so extremely persistent,
And I’ve never before been resistant.
But, don’t you hear the cough
Of yonder red-faced shop assistant!”.
Lyme Who Just Couldn’t Rhyme
A young man whose name is Lyme
Can never get his poems to verse.
His girlfriend Lou
Lost a boot,
Whilst composing a rather fine rhyme.
Beauty Queen
Men dream
Of a beauty queen.
A few find romance
In Aphrodite’s dance.
Her bare
Arms
And each pert breast
Possess
Such charms.
But, if she be
Merely beauty,
It preys on his mind,
That behind
That pretty face
Lies a vacant place.
Her perfume is sweet
At night.
But, come morning’s light
Body odours defeat
And fresh perfume
Must fill the room.
Yet he
Is as she
And must
Wash and brush.
I
Know that Lust
Has a short sell by date,.
And both love and lust
End in dust.
K Morris - Poet 