There was a young lady named Dawn
Who danced nude on the vicarage lawn.
The vicar’s wife Hocking
Found it most shocking
And the vicar he studied Dawn’s form.
The Beauty of Dawn
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Tag Archives: kevin morris poet
In Our Youth
In our youth
We search for fairies.
Then when we reach maturity
We see the truth.
There are no fairies
Or white knights
To ride to our rescue.
There is love and lust
And the Reaper
Who sweeps.
An Old Tree in Whitehall
An old tree, so stately and tall
Stands in Whitehall.
Officials have talked as they walked by
Of the law
And, gazing at the sky forecast rain
And coming war.
Bombs have fallen from the sky.
And empire’s fire has died.
But this fine old tree survives.
And now I pass by
My heart humbled by this tree.
The Kindly Postman
When a young lady wearing just socks
Jumped out of a red pillar box
A postie named Dan
Being a kindly man
Bought her frocks from the local shops.
The Rain Had Come and Gone
The rain had come and gone.
Yet still raindrops fell
From branches laden down with rain.
Then, the mower came
To cut grass as I passed
Along the churchyard path
Where the old trees grow
And the dead sleep below.
Neither these trees nor the dead
Will know that I passed
Along this well worn churchyard path
As the mower cut grass
Heedless of rain.
Gale and the Whale
There once was a girl named Gale
Who got swallowed by a large whale.
But her heels being sharp
He said, “for my part,
I wish I had swallowed a snail!”
Friendship
I saw hyacinths at my friend’s door.
Such sweet scent, but too soon spent.
Now I enter at his door
Though the flowers bloom no more.
But our friendship lives on
Though the hyacinths are gone.
All flowers must wither and die
But friendship may survive
Until the body dies
And we become as one
With sweet flowers long gone.
The Latest Fashion
Awaking after a night of passion
With a young lady of fashion,
I said to her, “Lou!
We’ve been sleeping in glue!”
She said, “it’s the latest fashion!”
I Once Met Cupid with his Bow
I once met Cupid with his Bow
And said, “there’s this gorgeous girl I know.
Her name is Miss Lee.
Please make her love me!”.
So he shot Miss Lee in her toe!
Lust
I have boldly said
Come to bed
And explored in lust
A stranger’s bust.
Wrapped in the charms
Of warm arms
I have let go.
But I know
That behind all lust
Lurks cold and dust.
K Morris - Poet 