I know a young lady named Grub
Who works in a working men’s club.
Being a very good lass
She ignored my crude pass
And she’s known for her good grub!
I Know a Young Lady Named Grub
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Tag Archives: k morris poet
Announcement Concerning My Poetry
I have been giving some considerable thought as to how I can best promote my poetry and have come up with the novel and innovative idea of painting my poems on my chest and torso. This will, of course necessitate me walking around half dressed. However it will, I am sure prove to be an effective means of publicising my work.
My more serious verses will be painted on in dark colours, whilst my humorous poems will appear in brightly coloured paints complete with appropriate humorous drawings.
I can assure my readers that all paints will be eco friendly and will not, in any way harm me or the environment.
So watch out for me in and around London!
Winter’s Last Blast
Winter’s last blast
Sighs and dies
In a rhyme
Of passing springtime.
In Flowering May
In flowering May
We little think
On Autumn grey
But our spring
Does not stay.
Birds Heard at Eventide
Birds heard at eventide.
Tears in human eyes.
How we anthropomorphise!
Moriah and the Squire
There was a young lady named Moriah
Who desired to burn the old squire.
The helpful vicar Hatch
Passed her a match,
And the squire he divorced young Moriah!
Jig Jig
“Jig jig”,
She said,
Caring not a fig
For another stranger’s bed.
Her name forgot,
The circumstance not.
When I Met a Man at His Mowing
When I met a man at his mowing
And said to him, “how is it going?”,
He said to me, “oh no!
I’ve just cut off my toe!”,
I said, “but how is your mowing going?”
There Once Was a Man of Settle
There once was a man of Settle
Who fell into a large boiling kettle.
When they said, “is it hot!”,
He said, “pass me that teapot!
I just can’t settle in this kettle!
Spring
A young woman’s perfume
On a spring afternoon.
We guys vie, try
To impress.
Our grey
On her spring day.
K Morris - Poet 