There was a middle-aged man called Coaker
Who owned a fearsome old poker.
When I dated his daughter
He threatened to slaughter
Me with that fearsome old poker!
There was an elderly man called Coaker
Who owned a fearsome old poker.
When I expressed my desire
To wed his daughter Moriah
He whacked me with that poker!
There was a young man called Coaker
Who was a bit of a joker.
We argued one day
And just in play
He whacked me with his poker!
There was a young man called Mark
Who fashioned a girl out of bark.
She was 10 feet tall
And he being small,
Their future was somewhat stark.
There was a young man called Mark
Who fashioned a girl out of bark.
She was the love of his life
So he took her to wife
That fortunate young man called Mark.
There was a young man called Mark
Who fashioned a girl out of bark.
Her skin it was rough
And the dating scene being tough
He married that lady of bark.
Walking home
The birds
Are content.
And me
For a while.
There was a young lady from Berlin
Who was extremely tall and thin.
She got stuck in a drain
Which caused her great pain
As she was neither out nor in …
There was a young lady from Berlin
Who’s name was Louise or Lin.
I behaved like a fool
Which led to a duel
With her brother who lived in King’s Lynn …
There was a young lady from Berlin
Who never committed a sin.
Having no vice
She went to paradise,
That boring young lady from Berlin …
In the middle of this wood
I should
Be able to forget my care.
Fresh air
Is there
And the sun is high
In the cloudless sky
Yet I …
A plane flies by,
Then another one.
Perfect silence has gone.
For modernity we yearn
Then turn
Away.
When each day
Is full
Of dull
“Opportunities” to try …
I cry
Out for the old.
One can not hold
On to the past
But when the future is vast
Supermarket aisles
(where there are no denials
And one is free
To be
Anything or anyone),
I wonder where meaning has gone.
I linger here
As thoughts drear
Contend with birdsong.
I shall go ere long
Back to the street
Where a myriad feet
Have been,
But have they seen?
The pig does merely eat and drink.
Sometimes I think
That he
Has the advantage over me.
The vicar spoke
And the devil coughed
In the organ loft
And I awoke
There was a young philosopher called Mabel
Who said “this is a virtual table”.
There was a terrible yell
When her good friend nell
Banged her head on that table …
There was a young lady called Lou
Who wore 2 kinds of shoe.
One was red,
Or so Lou said,
As she was colour blind too!
There was a young lady called Lou
Who wore one high-heel shoe.
I happen to know
That the other was low
As I lent Lou my shoe!
There was a young lady called Lou
Who dressed all in blue.
Her dress was short
But I ought
To stop there as Lou may sue!
There is a story circulating that the Syrian chemical attack was staged. The story eminates from Russian TV (no surprise there then)! Sadly this garbage has been picked up by the usual suspects – I’ve just seen a blog written by a UK-based blogger on the far-left of the political spectrum and, doubtless the “story” has also been picked up by bloggers on the far-right of the political spectrum.
Birds of a feather flock together and its instructive how the far-left and the far-right are so keen to repeat the blatant propaganda pumped out by Kremlin mouth pieces such as Russia Today. Anyone would think that there loyalty is not to the values of liberal democracy which prevail here in the west. Perish the thought. How could one even suggest such a thing!
Unfortunately such people also repeated the various conspiracy theories put out by Russia regarding the Salisbury poisoning, including the outrageous and preposterous lie that the UK was involved in the attempted murder.
I have no desire to engage in virtual fisticuffs with the bloggers who peddle such stuff, consequently I have not linked to the articles in question. Anyone interested can, however Google the story together with the reactions to it.
Kevin
There was a young lady called Bess
Who spoke to me of progress.
She was extremely petite
And had dainty feet
But her hair was a terrible mess!
There was a young lady called Bess
Who spoke to me of progress.
She had long blonde hair
And during our steamy affair
I wore her little black dress!
K Morris - Poet 