Her name was Werner
He just couldn’t spurn her
Advance,
For she did dance
Ever closer.
He said, “I’m a grocer”.
She replied with a sigh, “Oh how I love bananas.
You must see my pyjamas
All covered in llamas.
To tell you the truth
My real name is Ruth,
But it is better to be a girl called Werner
For no one can turn her
Away.
Let us play
With the llamas.
I may lose the pyjamas
For the Bahamas
Are hot
And I have got
A thirst to slake.
Come, let us swim in yonder lake!” …
“Sir you are a rake
And shouldst forsake
This life driven by desire,
For the fire
Down below is hot
And old Nick has got
A demon waiting
Especially for you.
Believe me sir, ‘tis true”!
“Lady cease your prating
For although the truth you may be stating
The devil is below
And you and I may go
A-maying.
Oh just one kiss
And I will be drowning in bliss.
Why, madam are you not a-staying …!”.
This morning I took a train from Thornton Heath station to London Victoria. Due to me being visually impaired, a member of station staff assisted me to board the train. However, before he could disembark, off went the locomotive with the railway company employee on board, and none to happy at having been conveyed, without his consent from Thornton Heath to the next station stop, Norbury!
—
A man
With a plan
To help me board a train.
Oh what a pain
For the doors closed
And there arose
From his lips a bad word,
The kind heard
On the docks.
The commuters where shocked
And the man from the station
Reached a destination
Not wished for.
No wonder he swore!
As many of you will know, I gave my first reading at Poetry Unplugged (hosted by the Poetry Café), on Tuesday 22 March. All of the audience where respectful of their fellow attendees, with the exception of one who caused a disturbance. The below poem is about that reprehensible individual!
—
It is late.
I stand up to read
And hear the rattle of a plate!
Who could be so rude
As to intrude
In to my first reading?!
‘Tis one of the audience who are feeding!
You my four legged friend
Can not pretend
It wasn’t you
Who
Your appetite
Did sate
When you ate
A cake!
Surely Trigger
Your stomach grows bigger.
You must have no soul
For you gobbled a cake, whole!
My old friend, Jeff Grant told me the following story about his time in the army.
… “Reminds me of a story that went around in the army. The army weren’t exactly noted for the depth and rigour of their educational classes. But we had one
once a week in basic training. i can remember nothing whatever about it except this story that went the rounds. A squad of raw recruits were taken by their
NCO to their education class. He told them, as he left – “You’re going to get a lecture on Keats this afternoon. And you’d better take notice, ‘cos when
I come back I’ll want to know what a Keat is.”
(For Jeff’s blog please go to, https://besonian.wordpress.com/).
Kevin
Said store owner Fleecem, to his assistant Proper
This metal here, it is but copper
But to the unwary shopper
‘Twill pass for gold
Let us be bold
And fleece ‘Em proper”!
But old Bill
The local copper
Nabbed those two, Fleecem and Proper!
When the wine flows
Sense goes
Walking.
People begin talking.
Trouble you will be courting.
And a reputation you will be sporting!
The below poem is dedicated to my guide dog Trigger, and my generous colleagues who, from time to time sacrifice their lunch to a hungry canine.
—
I am Trigger.
My stomach is bigger
Than you think.
Your lunch will be gone in the blink
Of an Eye.
Then away I fly.
Should you ask “who stole my lunch?” I reply
“Nnot I
But, dear reader, I lie …!..
I have been known to eat plastic.
My reach is elastic.
You think your food Safe?
My friend brace
Yourself for a shock
For I will gobble the lot!
Be it ever so hot!
The poet lays bare his soul
For the whole
World to see.
So who would a poet be?
Or perchance he hides in clever rhyme
How he does spend his time.
For ‘Tis no crime
To obfuscate a line.
Readers shake their heads.
The poet dreads
Lest they discover
What lies behind the cover …
“Russian Women Online”,
I am fine
As I am
without your spam!
Go away
I will not pay.
Whatever you say
About beautiful women.
My money I will not be binning.
I will save my hard earned cash.
There you go, into the trash!
Today I will not be sinning.
Goodbye Russian women!
—
The above was prompted by an email received in my spam folder today (29 December 2015). I can not for the life of me think why Gmail placed this missive in junk mail …!
K Morris - Poet 