There was a young man named Neil
Who borrowed his girlfriend’s high heel.
It suited him so well
That a journalist called Nell
Wrote a story about Neil’s high heel …
Tag Archives: poetry
There Was A Young Man Named Howl
There was a young man named Howl
Who kept a pet barn owl.
When the bird hooted at night
It gave him a fright
And he called it a name most foul!
Coop
One day the owl will swoop
And I shall be gone
From the coop
Leaving a few fragments of verse.
It is my
Curse
On hearing the owl’s cry
To think on when I
Shall die
Young Women
In short frocks
And with feet bare
They have no care
For clocks
That whir.
My guest post on Cyranny’s Cove
My thanks to Cyranny, of Cyranny’s Cove for hosting me on her blog, https://wp.me/p6RxSt-bU1
Parsimonious
The parsimonious man can
Save a good deal of money,
But he rarely gains a honey
Unless she be
As parsimonious as he!
(https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/08/29/parsimonious/).
Composed More Or Less In Realtime While Sitting In A Liverpool Garden
My poem, “Composed More Or Less In Realtime While Sitting In A Liverpool Garden”, was written while sitting in my mum’s garden in the city of Liverpool.
The poem is a stream of consciousness piece and is one of very few written by me.
To read the poem please follow this link, https://newauthoronline.com/2016/05/30/composed-more-or-less-in-realtime-while-sitting-in-a-garden/
There Was A Young Lady Of Peru
There was a young lady of Peru
Who never would wear a shoe.
When out for a walk
The people would talk
So I lent her my only shoe!
Time Passing
For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by traditional (pendulum) clocks. The slow movement of the pendulum reminds me of Old Father Time chopping up seconds which will never return. There is, in the swing of a pendulum something both comforting and chastening. The slow swing reminds one of a slower pace of life, of a more stable/traditional society, while one is also conscious that each movement brings one’s demise fractionally closer. A number of my poems touch (either directly or indirectly) on the passage of time, including “The Hands Are Almost At Half-Past”, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2quCnrHgpE4.
“The Hands Are Almost At Half-Past” can be found in my collection of poems, “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems”, which is available for preorder in the Amazon Kindle store, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07GD1LBMV/ (for the UK) and https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GD1LBMV/ (for the USA).
There Was A Young Lady Called Moriah
There was a young lady called Moriah
Who married a Tory squire.
But being a Whig
She gave not a fig
For Toryism or that squire!
There was a young lady called Moriah
Who married a Socialist squire.
They retained a maid
Who was rarely paid
And they kept a roaring fire!
There was a young lady called Moriah
Who married a very old squire.
Their butler Mike
Rode a bike
And fulfilled her every desire …
