When a young lady named Lyme
Said, “would you like a good time?”,
I said, “madam, I am moral
But let us 2 not quarrel,
And do come with me to dine”.
When A Young Lady Named Lyme
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Tag Archives: poets
Alone
Alone,
At home,
I hear the moan
Of someone up above
Making love.
Or is it just,
Lust?
My present desire
Is to write.
For which I require
Quiet. But, sometimes at night
I hear, up above
A couple making love,
Or is it just,
Lust?
Early Thursday Morning Humour
When a young lady named Claire
Said, “follow me up this stair”,
Being up for fun
I began to run,
And enjoyed an extremely tasty eclair!
—
When a young lady wearing heels
Said, “come and see the seals”,
I followed her along the beach
But, being just out of reach,
Instead I watched the seals.
The Girl with No Name
He met
A girl with no name
Who said, “I am Yvette.
Let us not talk of sorrow
But tomorrow
You may regret”.
So he took his pleasure
With Yvette or Heather,
And there was delight
For him that night
And sorrow
On the morrow.
He will borrow
From the bank, again
To play
With the girl with no name,
Who will not stay,
But she is not to blame.
The girl with no name
Has an ancient profession
Which, out of discretion
I shall not name.
Russian roulette must end in shame,
But she is not to blame.
I Once Had A Beautiful Lover Named Rose
I once had a beautiful lover named Rose
Who refused to expose her toes.
And when I asked her “why?”,
She said, “all flesh must die”,
So I wept for Rose and her toes
A Talented Young Man, Whilst Using Bostik
A talented young man, whilst using bostik
Composed an extremely fine acrostic,
Which went on for ages
And covered 50 large pages,
But the critics response was really caustic!
Stilettos (an Acrostic)
Sex on legs.
Thoughts of beds
Invade his head.
Lust will drive him insane,
Each interviewee, different but, somehow all the same.
“Those shoes, why did she choose
To wear them?
Only to please men?”,
Still, the stiletto shoe, may clinch the interview.
By the Light of My Guttering Candle
By the light of my guttering candle
I found a young lady’s sandle,
And on my newly made bed
I saw a pretty blonde head,
Which caused me to drop my candle!
Poet (an acrostic)
Poetry maybe, for better or worse,
Of the kind we call free verse.
Each muse does her poet choose,
Though some may say, that I lie.
Acrostic
Evening, your dress
Short. Your bought
Caress
Offered only to
Rich men when
They pay for you.
K Morris - Poet 