There was a young lady called Caroline
Who men thought rather fine.
When out on a first date
She would always clear her plate
But she never crossed that line …
There was a young lady called Caroline
Who men thought rather fine.
She had a sister named Lou
(Who looks rather like you),
But Lou never crossed that line …
There was a young lady called Leigh
Who one day went to sea
In a fine old ship
With a dog named Chip
And a captain known as me!
There was a young lady called Leigh
Who one day went to sea
In a fine old ship
With a dog named Chip
And Chip’s friend Mr Flea
Having passed through the door
Of the superstore
I breathe the scent
Of lilies (Oh how soon they are spent),
And know that to write
More
Would be trite
Just who
Should I return that high-heel
Shoe
To?
I feel
That it ought to be
Leigh
Or perhaps Sue.
Oh to
Who
Should I return that shoe?
Lou
Swears
That it isn’t her’s.
Then she swears some more!
Oh how I do a mystery adore!
Just who
Should I return that shoe
To?
Do tell me. Please do.
There was a young lady called Bland
Who asked for a one-night stand.
I said “that is all right.
You can stand there all night,
But she didn’t understand …!
She doesn’t care
For her hair
To be touched.
Nor her face
As that would displace
The makeup she with such
Careful hands applies.
Man dies
As he enters in
To a perfection
Of skin
Sin
And rejection
There was a young lady of France
Who performed an erotic rain dance.
A young man walking by
Said “the weather it remains dry,
But I really like your dance!”.
There was a young lady of France
Who performed an erotic rain dance.
When a young man walking by
Just happened to catch her eye
It led to a little romance!
Surfing TV
I see
She
Selling products that neither you nor I
Have ever thought to buy.
Flicking channels I see
Another vapid she
Pretty as the picture on a new TV.
I can not decide
Whether to turn over to the other side
Where boys say “mom” in identikit
American voices.
So many “choices”
To sit
And see
On my TV …
No Big brother watching me
Through my TV
Just advertisers selling me things that I
Have no need to buy.
Should I look
At a book
Instead?
Or go to bed
And dream of Hollywood where all are free
To watch the same crap TV?
Earlier today, a colleague who I haden’t seen for a couple of days sat next to me.
“Did you enjoy your leave?” I asked.
“I was working at home earlier in the week, then I was sitting at the other side of the office yesterday. We are like ships that pass in the night”, she replied laughing.
The phrase “ships that pass in the night” has always had a slight ring of melancholy beauty about it for me, and my colleague’s humorous remark caused me to go in search of poems on that theme. Below are 2 such poems, both of which are in the public domain:
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
—
Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;
I look far out into the pregnant night,
Where I can hear a solemn booming gun
And catch the gleaming of a random light,
That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.
My tearful eyes my soul’s deep hurt are glassing;
For I would hail and check that ship of ships.
I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,
My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,
And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing.
O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing,
O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!
Is there no hope for me? Is there no way
That I may sight and check that speeding bark
Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing
(Paul Lawrence Dunbar)
There was a young man called Paul
Who danced on my garden wall.
My philosophical friend Jane
Said “I do maintain
That Paul will one day fall.
K Morris - Poet 