When girls visited lonely men
At the height of lockdown,
Some neighbours did frown
And no doubt say,
“Those men need to pay!”.
But perchance when the dance
Of fun was done
They did indeed pay …
A lost hairclip,
It’s owner unknown
Records a slip
Of hip
Against hip.
When a young lady named Lou
Fell into a pot of stew,
A chef called Doyle
Said, “you will spoil
That stew you fell into Lou!”.
After the women go
I so often know
The meaning of zero.
Sometimes there is pleasure
But, when they go
Often I feel zero.
Sometimes I wonder whether
They also know zero.
I avoid
The void
In nights
Of bought delights.
But, when they go
Often I know
The emptiness of zero.
I know a pretty young perfumer
Who is spreading a wicked rumour,
About me and her,
And gorgeous Miss Claire.
How sad its just a rumour …!
The rain came fast,
But failed to last.
Our great civilisation came.
And rain will remain.
The tick tock
Of the clock
Says we must
Turn to dust.
And girl’s heels clip clop
In time with the clock.
And Time’s hands measure
Our pain and pleasure.
In 2019 I published my Selected Poems, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/. Since 2019 I have composed many other poems, some of which are included in book form, whilst others exist solely on this blog.
I have been thinking for some time about producing a revised and expanded second edition of my Selected Poems. I intend to begin work on this project in the near future.
As part of producing a second edition of my Selected Poems, I would be interested to hear from any of my readers. If you have a poem of mine that you believe should be included do please get in touch either by commenting below, or via email to kmorrispoet@gmail.com.
I can not guarantee to take on board all suggestions, but all comments received will be read, acknowledged and considered.
When a young lady who comes from Dover
Said, “I want you to bend right over”,
A man named Frank
Said, “do you spank?”,
She said, “just pick up my dropped pullover!”.
When a young lady playing at dice
Said, “do join me in my vice!”,
I said, “my dear Rose,
You are wearing no clothes!
Which is distracting me from my dice!”.
K Morris - Poet 