I know a young lady in pink
Who goes by the name of Spink.
She is known in society
For her lack of sobriety.
And I’m also fond of a drink!
I Know A Young Lady In Pink
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Tag Archives: poetry blogs
When A Young Lady With A Mouse
When a young lady with a mouse
Said, “have you all met my spouse?”.
I said, “he’s so very small!
There’s hardly anything there at all!”.
And then, I spoke of her mouse.
What is Sin?
What is sin?
A girl’s smile.
And the clink of coin.
And is there heaven
And hell?
Heaven is her smile.
And will you find
Hell behind?
She
Will not tell.
And he
Will find
In women and wine
That heaven
And hell
Join
In the chink
Of coin.
Angels dance on a pin,
And philosophers ask, “is there sin?
And the priest hears confession
Of an ancient profession.
Though some say farming is older.
And a girl’s bare shoulder
Tempts man into the descent
To heaven and hell.
And within
Is pleasure,
Or sin.
(perhaps they are the same).
A coin
On the collection plate.
Then, later, Lou or Kate
Join
Him
For coin.
And smile while
The world continues to spin.
6:30 As I begin To Compose
6:30 as I begin to compose
I have not the arrogance to suppose
That time will cease while I rhyme.
Pearl
When I found a young lady in red
Relaxing with my girlfriend in our large bed.
I said to her, “Pearl,
You are a wicked girl.
As you know that I don’t like red!”.
A Kind of Honesty
A delivery of pleasure.
She will come to me
For an hour or so.
We will spend our time.
But not in rhyme.
I, for my part
Know not her heart,
Nor she mine.
‘Tis merely pleasure.
The pleasure being mine.
Whilst Walking Down A Dimly Lit Street
Whilst walking down a dimly lit street
I met a policeman patrolling his beat.
He warned me of fallen women
And the grave dangers of sinning.
And Miss White, who patrols that beat …
There Once Was A girl With a Whip
There once was a girl with a whip
Who awoke respectable old gentlemen from their kip.
She would brandish the thing
And say, “this may sting!”,
As the gentlemen all begged for her whip!
Clair and the Infamous Old Stair
A most dissolute young lady named Claire
Hangs around an infamous old urban stair.
Petite Miss Coral
Calls her immoral.
But she hasn’t seen me with Claire …
Lyme Who Liked Internal Rhyme
There once was a poet named Lyme
Who wrote many a fine internal rhyme.
He met a girl named Pearl,
Who’s long blonde hair did curl.
But she disliked Lyme, and internal Rhyme
K Morris - Poet 