Her head scarf expresses
That there will
Be no short dresses.
Yet
She is a young woman still
And a woman may regret.
Modesty is all
But the West’s call
Says
That there are other ways
And you may find
That what happens behind
Closed doors, there stays
A sad satisfaction
In this distraction
Of Pears.
Her’s
And mine?
For this brief time
If you glean
What I mean
From this little rhyme.
We burn in fire
And in blazing jets
Man temporarily forgets
Himself in desire.
From our waters
Sons and daughters
Are born. Or we run
After fun.
Yet recreation
And procreation
Are oft as the horse and cart
And the hot spring
Does bring
Pain and joy
To the heart
Of girl and boy.
There was a young man called Paul
Who composed a limerick about a ball.
It said nothing profound
And went round and round
And how it ended – I don’t recall
The fridge’s hum
And the clock’s tick tock
For the most part run,
Unnoticed, as background
Sound
Until they
One day
Stop
Ships slide
And collide
At night when the tide
Is high.
I
Have been left high
And dry
When the tide is gone.
Ships sail on
And I will find sport
At a different port
And ride
The tide
Again
Though it cause me pain.
There was a young lady from Bath
Who was always up for a laugh.
I gave her a tickle
But got in a pickle
When I slipped and fell in the bath …
In weather hot
Girls in heels trot.
As legs catch the sun
Men dream of fun.
What time have I got?
I know not.
Riding a mare
To nowhere.
The pace is fast
And he
Will Spill
Into the vast
Gulf she
Can not fill.
But the run
Was fun
Was it not?
And he will trot
Again,
Though his heart says “beware
For the mare
Can not take away your pain.
The wise can see
That she
Is as thee”.
Men surf the brine.
As a line
Of mermaids throng
The sand. Their song
Odysseus heard long ago.
Many men were lost
For they failed to count the cost
And drowned. Twas always so
And the wise well know
With Sirens not to play
And with Odysseus stay
Lashed to the mast
Lest they drown in the ocean vast.
“The Odyssey isn’t relevant today”
The stupid say
But only look behind
The text and you will find
A very modern tale
Of the sailor who with a mermaid played
And for his stupidity paid.
K Morris - Poet 