There was a young lady called Jane
Who boarded the wrong train.
She jumped off in a huff
Yelling “I have had enough
And I can’t stand the rain!”.
There was a young lady called Jane
Who boarded the wrong train.
She jumped off in a huff
Which was really quite tough
On account of the moving train!
“Wait here!” he said, his hands clenching and unclenching as he strode towards the door. There was a crash and he was out in the open air.
He rushed down the garden path and, wrenching open the tool shed door, grabbed several thick bamboo canes and, not bothering to close it behind him, hurried back to the building where the objects of his ire awaited his return.
He found that thin canes had no lasting effect. What was needed was real discipline and he was determined that, come hell or high water those ungrateful offspring he had so carefully nurtured would behave.
“I’ve warned you until I’m blue in the face but you won’t listen! All the love and care I’ve devoted to you and you repay me by slouching on the ground like that. Right, here goes” he said brandishing the thick bundle of bamboo. Bending down he grasped one of the many large plants which had become detached from the frame which had, hitherto held them in place …
Why this disdain
For the rain?
Tis the sense
That all our expense
Is vain
While the rain
Will remain.
There was a young lady called Samantha
Who owned a large pet panther.
It fed on fish
And a dainty dish
That went by the name of Samantha
I wonder
Who makes the thunder.
Is it Thor
Who makes that roar?
The scientist will say
In a most prosaic way
That there is no deity on high
Merely electricity and the endless sky.
I sigh
For the forgotten days of belief.
This life is brief
And scientists say that there is no wonder
In yonder lightning flash
And the crash of thunder,
Yet still I wonder …
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/wonder/).
Inchoate desire.
A fire
Fanned by a girl’s sweet scent.
No need to repent
As yet.
Come tomorrow
There will be sorrow
And regret.
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/inchoate/).
There was a young lady called Lou
Who said “I shall thwart you”.
But ere long
She changed her song,
That capricious young lady called Lou!
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/thwart/).
I remember well
The hut.
The rain fell
But
I swear
That I was content there.
Alone I was
Because
I wished it to be so.
I know
The rain and sky
For it is I.
A strange boy was I.
My heart
Given to rain and sky,
Standing aloof from the loud
Crowd
In my hut.
But
Half wishing to be part
Of those who were children as I
Yet knew not of rain and sky.
Thrusting
Into nothing.
Trusting
In nothing.
A way of coping,
Perchance hoping,
For Something
Of nothing.
K Morris - Poet 