November or December,
I remember
Not.
The carpet rough on skins.
Some sins
I have forgot.
Forgot
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Tag Archives: poets
The mind is a labyrinth
Yesterday evening, a good friend was leafing through my collection of poems, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”. As she leafed through, she read aloud several of the poems, including the below piece, which is entitled “Labyrinth”,
“I hear the minotaur roar,
And see the vampire soar.
Lost in the labyrinth of my mind,
Can I a way out find,
Via Ariadne’s thread,
Or must I remain in the land of the dead?
A place where the shadows forever fall,
And no birds call”.
(https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28513305-lost-in-the-labyrinth-of-my-mind).
—
I shall be taking a break from blogging for the next few days, and will return on Thursday 17th or Friday 18th April.
Kevin
When A Rhyming Poet Named Hogg
When a rhyming poet named Hogg
Wrote, “the dog sat on the log”,
A lover of free verse
Said, “your poems are no good.
Rhyme is out of date …”.
There Once Was A Student Named Paul
There once was a student named Paul
Who wrote a thesis about a ball.
It went round and round
And said nothing profound,
So was really no thesis at all!
Early Monday Morning Humour
I know a young lady from the city
Who is extremely slim and pretty.
Though I’ve heard a rumour
That she has a sense of humour,
I’ve never found her witty!
—
There once was a young lady of Bath
Who made a most terrible gaffe
When she mistook a crowded pub
For her very own tub,
And went in there to bath!
When A Young Man Named Mike
When a young man named Mike
Said, “there’s this girl I like”,
I made reply
With a deep sigh,
“She doesn’t like you Mike!”.
When My Friend Whose Name Is Amy
When my friend whose name is Amy
Feeling that life was a little samey,
Eloped with me
To a place by the sea,
Her mother she really blamed me!
I Once Had A Very Good Friend
I once had a very good friend
Who said, “our friendship will one day end”.
His words gave me much sorrow
So some money I did borrow,
From that man who was once my friend …
There Was A Young Lady Named Samantha
There was a young lady named Samantha
Who ran away with a Panther.
But the panther got bored
And said, “good lord,
I must lose this young lady Samantha!”.
Too Much Thinking
You left me alone
At the top of the street,
And I went home
While your feet,
Encased in shoes
You did not choose
To lose
Took you back
Down your own track.
Or perhaps I lack
The ability to understand
Your hug and hand.
Now I wait
And ponder on sense
And the present,
Or the past tense.
Is it too late?
A pointless question to state
Perhaps.
To collapse
Into meloncholy
Is folly.
I have a choice
To be morose
Or falsely jolly.
‘Tis better to use my voice
And ask than to drown
My frown
In a glass
Over a lass
Who may
Not think of me that way.
Lover or friend?
‘Tis better to know, than to pretend.
K Morris - Poet 