There was a young lady named Charleen
Who I have never seen.
She had a boy who looks like me
Which is strange – you see
As I have never met Charleen …
There Was A Young Lady Named Charleen
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Tag Archives: poems
Sums On A Page
Sums on a page
Are cold.
Yet they hold
The attention of lady Night
Who exits (stage right)
To meet a knight
In tarnished armour.
“The Reckoning” by Robert W Service
We all, sooner or later have to pay the bill. Service’s poetry can not be described as complex. It is, however none the worse for that, and in his poem “The Reckoning” Robert Service hits the nail on the head, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46645/the-reckoning-56d2269728b85
There Once Was A Demon Named Wood
There once was a demon named Wood
Who truly wished to be good.
He went out on the town
His sorrows to drown
And was found, face down, in the mud!
There Was A Young Priest Named Locke
There was a young priest named Locke
Who did the devil mock.
This caused Satan to howl
In a manner most foul,
Which gave the angels a shock!
There Was A Young Man Named Guy
There was a young man named Guy
Who said “I shall surely die”.
He played Russian Roulette
With his wife Yvette,
But the gun was pointed at the sky …
—
There was a young man named Guy
Who said “all flesh must die”.
He played Russian Roulette
With his wife Yvette,
But the bullets where made of pie!
Too Much Reading
Too much reading
My imagination feeding.
It’s a little after 1 am
When
I hear you hoot,
The night’s flute
So cold and so clear
Instilling a dull fear.
Somewhere a TV or radio burbles on,
Then owl and noise are gone.
I drink in the silence
Then sleep sets me free.
But no
It is not so
For I dream
A dream in early December,
Of what
I don’t remember,
For the individual man
And his dreams are soon forgot.
There Was A Young Lady Named Clare
There was a young lady named Clare
Who bought a juicy pear.
Some say that she bought two
But that can not be true
For I sold her my final pear
Shoppers
I pass the lights
And think on the delights
Inside
Where shoppers hide
From the cold outside
Where people hurry by
And do not catch another’s eye.
What man will glorify the ethereal
When there is a material
Girl with perfect skin
Who beckons him in
To her store?
Those who are discreet
Do not ask for a receipt.
They know the power
Of the shower
And how scent lingers
On fingers.
But one can not forever hide
From the cold outside
There Was A Young Lady Named Kate
There was a young lady named Kate
Who always came home very late.
Her mother looked grave
While her father did rave
At his daughter for coming home late!
K Morris - Poet 