When an extremely fat man named William Paul
Fell with great force against my garden wall,
And I heard the wall crack
As he fell on his back,
I said, “Paul, shall pay for my wall!”.
When An Extremely Fat Man Named William Paul
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Tag Archives: poets
When A Young Lady Named Claire
When a young lady named Claire
Asked, “shall we have a sordid affair?”,
And I said, “just us 2?”,
She replied, “do you like Miss Lou?”,
And this poem, it stops right there …
When A Young Lady of Greece
When a young lady of Greece
Said, “when will your writing cease?”,
I replied, with a grin,
“Are you in to hot sin?”,
And then she called the police!
Sometimes I think that those who lop and chop
Sometimes I think that those
Who lop
And chop
At that which organically grows,
And think they do good
No not the wood
As a whole
Is possessed of a soul,
And that sometimes one should let be
Both wood
And tree,
For who
Are you
And I
To quantify variety?
A Young Lady Who Calls Herself Intellectual
A young lady who calls herself intellectual
Swears that she’s not at all sexual.
I’ve never seen her flirt
In her very short skirt,
As she’s pure and a true intellectual!
I Remember The Skirt
I remember the skirt
(Although you and I know
That there was not much of that).
There was no need to flirt.
Being sensible, I wore a hat.
And that
Would have been that,
Save for my desire
To remember the gas fire
And the carpet burns
On legs,
For we had no use for beds.
Oh how the clock’s hands turn
And man, he never learns.
When A Young Lady Named Louise
When a young lady named Louise
Suggested we walk in the autumn leaves,
And I asked, “will Claire be there?”,
She gave me a pearcing glare,
She’s a jealous young lady is Louise!
(The above was inspired by Lorraine’s beautiful poem, https://blindwilderness.wordpress.com/2019/10/04/shenanigans/).
A Young Lady Named Claire
A young lady named Claire
Invited me into her lair,
Where we ate chocolate cake
But, when I tried to partake,
She threw me out of there!
Brass Tack
You left your shoes behind
And it still occupies my mind.
You were neither white nor black,
And there is no turning back
For those shoes you left behind,
Which still occupy my mind.
Your accent was upper class
But, somewhere along the line
Fine
Metal
Did settle
For brass.
You left your shoes behind
And they still occupy my mind.
It is rarely white or black.
And the way
To a brass tack
Is easier than some say.
Wednesday Humour
When a young lady named May
Said, “its National Poetry Day Today”,
And I replied, “no, its tomorrow”,
She wept in such great sorrow,
That I said, “please, go away!”.
Awaking with the beautiful dawn
I gave a tremendous yawn,
And as I rolled over in bed
I with great pleasure said,
“Its nice to know you, Miss Dawn”.
K Morris - Poet 