I know a young lady called Kipps.
Bad language never passes her lips.
But in a Soho club
Called the Rubber Dub Dub
She seductively wriggles her hips
I Know A Young Lady Called Kipps
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Tag Archives: poetry
I Once Knew A Dog Called Rover
I once knew a dog called Rover
Who ate my favourite pullover.
When I began to moan
He swallowed my phone
So I banished him to Dover!
Oil
To pour oil on troubled waters
Calms.
But when
The daughters
Of men
Employ their charms
The oil may destroy
Both girl and boy.
One can overanalyse
An action.
Yet a girl’s bright eyes
May grow dim
Through too much interaction
With a random him
And him.
‘Tis true
That there is nothing new
Under the sun.
Men will after pleasure run
And fun
Is only a phone call
Away. And perhaps to some
To fall
Is no great matter at all.
If I Could Paint A Portrait
If I could paint a portrait
Of each dream and nightmare
There you would see me
Naked in love and hate
Nameless Feet
Nameless feet have walked this way.
We danced but none did stay.
Some in heels, others bare
Dancing, dancing to who knows where.
The dance
May entrance
Or bring on care,
Shameless feet dancing, to who knows where.
Bark Rubbings
Close to the end of the woodland path,
Shortly before you join the thoroughfare,
There
I ran my hands across the tree.
It’s rough bark kindled in me
A child’s wish to an impression make
Of that tree, and to take
It away with me.
Had I crayons, perhaps I would have captured that bark
On pristine
Paper, creating a clean
Bark rubbing
Leaving the tree as before.
Yet as I stood
Close to the edge of that wood
I thought how one can neither restore
Nor rub away
Yesterday.
When The Sun Comes Out
When the sun comes out
Young women go about
In shorts and dresses
And men of a certain age
Engage
In dreams of perfect skin.
“Undresses …
Caresses …
Oh to be young, to win
And …”.
There Was A Young Lady Called Leigh
There was a young lady called Leigh
Who poured me a cup of tea.
I drank it right down
And said, with a frown
“Are you trying to poison me!”.
I Saw Flowers On My Way Through Yonder Woods Today
I saw flowers on my way
Through yonder woods today.
They were the same bloom
As those I admired
And so desired
Yesternoon.
But no,
I can not be sure
As they grow
In such profuse store.
I think therefore
That it may not be so.
Conservatism
Conservatism is a scepticism regarding what some call “progress”
Coupled with a desire to redress
Genuine grievances, lest the great wall crumble and fall
Crushing all.
Conservatism is men who
Wish the clock
Would stop
At half-past 2
But know that this man can not do.
While the reactionary believes that one can rewind the clock
And it’s hands lock
At some frozen place
In time and space.
Conservatism is scepticism about equality
For the Conservative does see
That each tree
Is different. but the forest has a heart
And we are all part
Of an organic whole
With each man being possessed of his own unique soul.
Some say
That the Conservative way
Is an obsession with the bottom line
And that selfishness does Conservatism define.
Others maintain
That economics is an obsession of the Classical Liberal’s brain
And that the liberal interloper
Should slope away.
Conservatism is walks in country parks
As the larks
Twitter high above.
It is a love
Of old friends
Who are not means to an end.
It is a desire to enjoy
And not to destroy.
The ship must be kept on an even keel
Lest we into anarchy reel.
Yet some say
That today
Many Conservatives do not behave that way …
K Morris - Poet 