A young lady who’s name is rose
Is fond of touching her toes
But her dress being very short
I think that I ought
To warn that young lady Rose …
A Young Lady Who’s Name Is Rose
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Tag Archives: poets
Desire
Fire.
Wet.
Desire
As empire’s
Sun will set.
Update to my About page
Much Has Been Sung
Much has been sung
Of women young
And middle-aged men who knew
Better, yet themselves flung
At the feet
Of maidens far from discreet …
So when I meet
Girls with high-heeled feet
I think with delight
Of the hot night,
Then sigh for that can not be,
For I am growing old you see …
The Wise
“It was a mistake when, in 1962
Jamaica became independent from you”,
She said.
I moved not my head
But sat thinking on the wise
Who tell
And dispel
Lies.
A Young Lady Who’s Name Is Moriah
A young lady who’s name is Moriah
Stokes the squire’s fire.
And when the squire’s away
A visit I pay.
But do not tell the squire …
Today is not hot
Today is not Hot.
Ought I to confess my thought?
Ought I not?
The day is cold
But the grave is colder yet.
Would I regret
Where I to be bold
And unfold
My thought?
Ought I? Ought I not?
In the final sleep there is neither cold
Nor hot.
The day is cold,
Should I be bold?
Or not?
Elicit
The creep
Of girl’s feet
Bring delight
At night.
Neighbours sleep.
A Lady Who’s Name Is Brass
A lady who’s name is Brass
Has a heart fragile as glass.
When I criticised her art
Her tears did start
And her friends all called me crass!
Ought
Ought
I to fall
For a tall
Or a short
Girl?
One may be gone
In a whirl
Of love or lust
It matters not, for we are dust
And must
Ourselves besport
Ere we are caught
By one who will
Forever chill
Both love and lust.
K Morris - Poet 