A young lady whose name is Rose
Jumped up and down on my toes,
Which caused me great pain,
But she did it again!
And then, she tweaked my poor nose!
A Young Lady Whose Name Is Rose
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Tag Archives: laughter
My Liberated Young Friend, Whose Named Dawn
My liberated young friend, whose named Dawn
Works in the field of porn.
She has lots of silk stockings,
And I’ve heard late night knockings,
From that pawnbrokers shop owned by Dawn!
When A Careless Young Lady Named Louise
When a careless young lady named Louise
Sat on a hive of bees,
And said, with a terrible scream
“Please, cool me down with icecream!”,
I said, “but bees make honey, Louise!”.
A Gorgeous Young Lady Named Honey
A gorgeous young lady named Honey
Is dating me for my money.
I’m having so much hot fun,
And I’m learning how to professionally run,
For when she finds I’ve no money!
General Election Day
Today is general election day.
The sun must
Rise on Johnson or Corbyn.
Soon, manifestos will gather dust,
Or be re-read with a cynical grin
By people who will say,
“You promised such and such
On election day”.
Then, in disgust
They will throw the thing away.
Oh the joy
For girl and boy
Of yet, another, election day!
A Young Man Named Mo
A young man named Mo,
Having read every manifesto,
Decided to cast his vote
For a very large goat,
Although it had no manifesto!
An Elderly Gentleman Named Frank
An elderly gentleman named Frank
Being fond of a spank,
Visits a young lady called Jane,
Who wields a mean old cane,
But that’s between Jane and Frank!
Concrete Poetry
A young man named Lee
Composes lots of concrete poetry.
His poem about an urban pavement
Has led to much critical engagement,
But his poetry’s to hard for me!
When A Young Lady Dressed In Pink
When a young lady dressed in pink
Said, with a knowing wink,
“You know my friend Lorna.
She works in a sauna”,
I said, “just plumb in this sink!”.
When A Young Lady Dressed In Red
When a young lady dressed in red
Said, “please, get out of my bed!”,
I said, “this bed is mine.
You’ve drunk far to much wine!
Go back to your own blooming bed!”.
K Morris - Poet 