I know a pretty young blonde
Of whom I’m extremely fond.
My wife Yvette
Works as a vet
And she doesn’t like that blonde …!
—
I know a pretty young blonde
Of whom I’m rather fond.
When she met
My wife Yvette
It ended in the pond!
Here are three of my poems, which I recorded earlier today.
Many a stiletto
Has pierced my heart,
Informed my art.
So I will not go
There again
As it causes me pain.
But on seeing girl’s in heels
Their legs bare
My resolution steals
Away and I am lost in an unreal
Affair,
Forever under the heel
Of a Claire
Or Flair.
Oh
How the point of a stiletto
Does inform my art,
Pierce my heart.
Though
Oft I wish it were not so.
There was a young man called Morris
Who laid claim to The Odes of Horace.
When the case came to court
The judge said, “I thought
That The Odes they where written by Borris!”.
Alone
In her head
She plays with her phone.
Another strange bed.
She gives no discount
To those who drink at the fount
Of her “love”.
“There is no god above”
He thinks as he takes a sup
From another empty cup
Brimful of forget
Regret
Ad infinitum.
Just another item
On his bucket list.
There was a young lady called May
Who invited me to the ballet.
But being a man of discretion
I shall make no confession
Unless the tabloids they offer to pay …
—
There was a young lady called May
Who introduced me to her housemate Fay.
Back at their flat
I took off my hat
But they didn’t ask me to stay!
A mermaid
Most staid
Oft times played
On the seashore
Until one day
The waves carried her away
In a different kind of play.
Now she will dance in May
No more.
There was a young man called Mo
Who stood upon my toe.
I gave him a glare
And said “you aint being fair!”,
So he trod on my other toe!
—
There was a young man called Mo
Who trod upon my toe.
So I gave him a glare
And said “you aint being fair!”,
And I told him where to go!
If all our dreams could
Be known
Who then would
Throw the first stone?
Alone in our head
We dread
That one day our dreams will be known.
So tell me my friend will
You still
Be the one to throw the first stone?
When a young man called Kirt
Borrowed his girlfriend’s skirt.
His brother Guy
Said, with a sigh,
“You look better in tie and shirt!”.
—
When a young man called Kirt
Borrowed his girlfriend’s skirt.
His partner Lou
Said “don’t wear my shoe,
As those stilettos they really hurt!”.
K Morris - Poet 