There was a young lady named Hocking
Who hung up her Christmas stocking.
I regret that Santa Claus forgot her
(He left not even a pear).
And someone stole her stocking!
—
There was a young lady named Hocking
Who hung up her Christmas stocking.
I regret that Santa Claus forgot her
(He left not even a pear).
Her language was truly shocking!
An elderly writer named Perks
Published his collected works.
They where beautifully bound
And contained wisdom profound.
But in bookshelves the woodworm lurks
There was a young lady named Leigh
Who got stung by a rather large bee.
When they said “does it hurt bad?”
She turned quite mad
And climbed a fine old oak tree!
There was a young lady named Nell
Who lived in a prison cell.
She crossed a line
While drunk on cheap wine
And was sentenced by a judge called Snell.
—
There was a young lady named Nell
Who lived in a prison cell.
She wrote many a rhyme
To pass the time
But her poems they didn’t sell.
—
There was a young lady named Nell
Who lived in a prison cell.
When I asked her “why?”
She winked her eye
And said “I like it very well!”.
He was a poet by profession.
His confession
Caused the priest to roll his eyes
And look to the skies,
While the devil cleared a place
For another member of the human race.
There was a young lady named Hocking
Who lost a silk stocking.
She searched high and low
But I happen to know
That the vicar has her stocking …
There was a young man from Hull
Who owned a large prize bull.
They lived in a glass house
Along with a mouse named Clouse
And their lives where never dull!
There was a young lady named Hocking
Who wore a single stocking.
She went down town
Her sorrows to drown.
The bishop found it shocking!
“The Poet And The Workman” can be found in my collection of poetry, “Refractions”. Refractions is available from Amazon and can be found in the Kindle store here, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01L5UC2H2.
—
Poet: “Why do you dig a hole my good man?”
Workman: “Because I can,
While those who are not able
Sit at a table,
Wasting time
Trying to make their verses rhyme!”
Poet: “I have a plan
To make my lines scan.
Kindly move your van
And I will be on my way
To versify the livelong day”.
“Workman: Why bless my soul
This poet droll
So intent was he on his goal
Of writing verse,
That the man’s fallen into that there hole,
To be a rhymer is most perverse!”
There was a young lady named Simone
Who lived in a haunted house alone.
In the depths of the dark
She would sing like a lark
And the ghosts would sigh and moan!
K Morris - Poet 