There was a young lady named Kate
Who wished to abolish the state.
She became an anarchist bold
But lo and behold
The state outlasted Kate
There Was A Young Lady Named Kate
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Tag Archives: poetry
There Was A Young Lady Of Dutch Extraction
There was a young lady of Dutch extraction
To whom I felt an attraction.
She was a lover of art
And lived in my heart,
But to her I was a mere abstraction!
Two of my earlier poems
Below are 2 poems, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There” and “Two Voices”.
Both poems can be found in my collection of poetry, “The Girl Who Wasn’t There”, which was published in September 2015 and can be found HERE.
—
I am the girl who wasn’t there.
I did not sit upon that chair,
Playing provocatively with my hair.
I did not drink that expensive wine,
While gazing on your paintings fine.
I did not recline under the quilt so red,
Or moan with ecstasy in your bed.
If, by chance, an earring she should find,
Worry not; it is not mine.
—
You talk to me of lambs gambolling, of ramblers ambling, through fields green, beside the meandering stream.
You speak to me of verdant bowers, where lovers while away the hours, in love’s young dream.
I tell you of an urban street, where the gale buffets and people battle to retain their feet.
I impart to you the wind’s loan moan, as I wander home alone, in weather bleak.
Three
Two is company but three
Is a crowd you see.
Yet for some three is the magic number.
Fear of judgement may encumber
The desire to fish
But still waters run deep
And the wish
To sleep
May overtake
And secret fires wake
There Was A Young Poet Named Zeff
There was a young poet named Zeff
Who wrote a poem about death.
The Grim Reaper heaved a great sigh
And said “I have long pondered on why
You poets are so obsessed with death”.
Party Girl
She was a party girl
Her head in a whirl
Of boys
And expensive toys.
She offered
“No strings fun”
In exchange for money proffered
By those who would
(if they only could)
outrun
The solemn tick tock
Of the ever present clock.
She was gone one day,
Who can say
Where?
Few care
To know.
The man of the world shrugs.
“Drugs.
Best not go
There.
She had naturally blonde hair
I think.
Will you take another drink?”
There was a young lady named Lou
There was a young lady called Lou
Who fell into a vat of glue.
A handsome young doctor named Shane
Said “I share all your pain
For I am in love with you!”.
Autumn Bird
I heard
An Autumn bird
Sing to me
From a tree,
As I took
A short-cut
Through the grounds
Of the doctor’s surgery.
Shadows
On such a day, when the winter sun
Casts my shadow upon yonder wall,
It is difficult to recall
That all
This will, one day, be done.
In future, will some other one, sitting here and seeing their shadow fall
Upon this self-same wall,
Know that they may not forestall
The night
Where dancing shadows are forever lost from sight.
—
(Written on 3 December 2016, while sitting in my study).
—
(Note: “Shadows” can be found in my latest collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind”, which is available from Amazon, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0735JBVBG and from Moyhill Publishing, http://moyhill.com/clock/).
There was a young man named Meek
There was a young man named Meek
Who’s view of the world was bleak.
When I bought him a beer
He said “the world is so drear,
I shall drink for the rest of the week!”
K Morris - Poet 