When a single young lady called Moore
Went shopping in a store
She met a man named Dan
With a marriage plan.
They married in the church next door …
—
When a young Martian came down from Mars
In search of knickers and bras
She bought stockings too
And a high-heel shoe
Then she flew with her bags back to Mars …
I know a young man called Nile
Who owns a pet crocodile.
He married a girl named Grace,
With a very pretty face
Which made that crocodile smile …
A man may say and do
That which causes the majority to
View him as arrogant and aloof,
Yet he may, nonetheless speak truth
While many a lie
Is told by Mr nice guy …
When a young man of Bristol
Wounded me with his pistol
It was over a girl
(Her name was Pearl)
Or maybe it was Crystal …
A man by the name of Cook
Published a very long book.
It was entitled “The Tank”
But, all it’s pages being blank
I couldn’t judge that book …
“As the demand for internet content increases steadily, AI content bots become more crucial. That’s because of the sheer demand for information and constant
updates. To stay on top of the search engine results page and remain SEO-focused, bloggers and webmasters need to produce new content consistently — and
not all of it needs to be empathetic, prose-like or high quality”.
It’s the words “and not all of it needs to be empathetic, prose-like or high quality”, (particularly those 2 words “high quality” which give me most cause for concern. This is well worth reading, (https://www.mostlyblogging.com/articoolo-writing-robots/).
There once was a lady called Rose
Who always wore lots of clothes.
In the hot summer weather
She dressed all in leather
And a rose it grew in her nose.
When a young lady of Bath
(who is always up for a laugh)
Comes round to mine
We drink fine wine
While soaking in the bath …
The snow white ribbon in her hair
She undid
When she got there
And with reluctance slid
In
To sin.
Twas a game To him,
(He meant no harm
But he could not resist the charm
Of her ribbon pure white
On that so ordinary night).
Her ribbon she wore
Once more
As she closed the door
Leaving him behind.
But she did find,
That after that night
Her ribbon did seem, less than white.
There was a young man called Good
Who went for a walk in the wood
Where he met a girl named Louise
Who offered to please,
As she was far from good …
—
There was a young man called Good
Who fell asleep in the wood
Where a nymph named calypso
Pinched his big toe
In the depths of that deep dark wood
K Morris - Poet 