When a young man called Kirt
Borrowed his girlfriend’s skirt.
His brother Guy
Said, with a sigh,
“You look better in tie and shirt!”.
—
When a young man called Kirt
Borrowed his girlfriend’s skirt.
His partner Lou
Said “don’t wear my shoe,
As those stilettos they really hurt!”.
There was a young lady called Meg
Who laid a very large egg.
When the journalists came round
They found nothing profound
As Meg was pulling their leg …!
There was a young lady called Hocking
Who’s morals were truly shocking.
When she dated a man named Ed
And my brother called Fred,
Their wives they came aknocking!
I know a young lady called May
Who told me a limerick risqué.
I experienced delight
Throughout the night
But she won’t repeat it today
There was a young lady called Lorraine
Who’s character lacked any stain.
An old rake named Paul
Said “most girls fall,
But I can not conquer Lorraine!”.
There was a young lady called Lorraine
Who’s character lacked any stain.
While on her wedding bed
She most properly said
“My virtue I shall retain!”.
A young lady by the name of Hocking
Was always my poetry mocking.
When she passed away
I’m sorry to say
That her end was truly shocking …
There was a young lady called Hocking
Who lost a fine silk stocking.
A vicar named Hogg
Owned a large black dog
Which ate that fine silk stocking …
I know a young lady of Cadiz
Who’s name was Louise or Liz.
When the police went looking for her
She changed into Claire
And we’re sat here drinking fizz …
I know a young lady called Kim
Who asked that I the lights dim.
So I turned them down low
And turned round real slow,,
But Kim had run away with Jim!
I met a young lady called Kim
Who asked that I the lights dim.
So I turned them down low
And turned round real slow.
And Kim was petite and slim …
I know a young lady called Heather
Who likes to dress in leather.
Her good friend Rose
Does poetry compose
About girls who dress in leather …
There was a young lady called Heather
Who wore one single feather.
My good friend Rose
Goes without clothes
In every kind of weather …
Each night
I turn out the light
To sleep.
But in does creep
Miss White,
Every blooming night!
K Morris - Poet 