There was a young lady called Michelle
Who had a friend named Nell.
They lived on my street
And we would meet
By the local wishing well.
—
There was a young lady called Michelle
Who decided her soul to sell.
Having run out of money
The devil paid her in honey,
Or so her friends do tell.
There was a man who lived in the gloom
As he would allow no light in his room.
Many say that he was a vampire
And very few had any desire
To meet that man who dwelt in the gloom!
There was a young man called Friend
Who did me some money lend.
When I hid away
And refused to repay
It drove him round the bend!
There was a young lady called Christine
Whose writing was always pristine.
Noone understood a word
But I have heard
That her life was squeaky clean!
There was a young lady called Flair
Who met me on her stair.
She invited me to stay
Until break of day
When her husband found me there …
There was a young lady called Lin
Who believed in original sin.
She met a man named More,
Who was naive and pure,
And he learned of original sin …
There was an elderly man called Monk
Who sat in a pub getting drunk.
When the barmaid looked askance
He asked her to dance.
That disreputable old drunkard called Monk!
I knew a young lady called Mable
Who collapsed drunk under a table.
I offered her my hand
To help her to stand.
Though willing she was sadly unable!
There was a young lady called Claire
Who’s feet where always bare.
She went for an interview
Without any shoe.
I know as I was there!
—
I knew a young lady called Claire
Who’s feet where invariably bare.
She walked on hot coals
While playing at bowls.
I know as I was there!
—
There was a young lady called Claire
Who’s feet where always bare.
She was a dancer by profession
And I must make a confession
For I am that young lady Claire!
A drunken young lady called Mable
Danced on a rickety old table.
We all gave a roar
And called out “en core”,
But that table was really unstable …
K Morris - Poet 