I met a young lady named Moriah
Who said, “I am a Vegan vampire!.
I never drink blood,
But fruit is good!”.
She’s a very funny girl is Moriah!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
The Vegan Vampire
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Tag Archives: kevin morris poet
Light Fingered Jim
A thief who was tall and slim
Had the nickname of light fingered Jim
Until a girl called Pat
Set a cunning trap
Which did for that light fingered Jim!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
The Song of the Siren
I was glancing through my archives earlier today, and came across this poem, which I am reposting, https://kmorrispoet.com/2017/04/03/k-morris-reading-his-poem-siren/
The Siren
I once met a pretty siren named Lee
Who invited me to play in the sea.
But the water was cold
And I have been told
Not to play with sirens in the sea!
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Miss Spink’s Love Letter
When a talented young lady named Spink
Sent a love letter in invisible ink,
And her lover called Ray
Said, “what does it say?”,
She said, “heat will reveal my kink …!”
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Invisible Ink
I have decided to experiment with invisible ink. Consequently the below is written using invisible ink. In order to read it, please print it off on paper and expose it to the sun’s rays whilst in the vicinity of a stone circle. If you are unable to manage this, please just wait until the moon’s full light. Please do enjoy the below composition.
Refreshed by An Early Spring Breeze
Refreshed by an early spring breeze
I pass trees
In an urban field
.
These fine trees
Will, in all probability, outlast me.
But all will yield
For time he ends all rhyme.
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
Playing Roulette
He has many vices.
Extra money entices.
She will take the pill
To prevent a mistake.
But Russian Roulette
May catch them out yet.
.
Copyright: Kevin Morris.
The Poetical Young Nurse
I once knew a poetical young nurse
Who was fond of composing fine verse.
She wrote one on Paul
Who said, as I recall,
“Why are you writing on me nurse!”
Cemetery
So many birds sing
In early spring
As I pass by
These numerous tombstones
Where the dead lie.
You also passed
So do not know
That birds sing
In this early spring
Over old stones.
K Morris - Poet 