There was a young man called Drew
Who did my poem misconstrue.
He thought that it concerned a dog
That owned a man named Hogg,
But it was all about my shoe!
There Was A Young Man Called Drew
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Tag Archives: poets
K Morris reading his poem ‘There are no pockets in a shroud’.
Me reading my poem ‘There are no pockets in a shroud’.
K Morris reads his poem ‘The writers’ pen’
Me reading my poem ‘The writer’s pen’.
K Morris reading his poem ‘The delight of snow’
Me reading my poem ‘The delight of snow’.
K Morris reading his poem ‘The crooked tree’
Me reading my poem ‘The crooked tree’.
K Morris reading his poem ‘This rhyme is out of time’.
Me reading my poem ‘This rhyme is out of time’.
K Morris reading his poem ‘Apart’
Me reading my poem ‘Apart’.
There Was A Young Lady Called Bell
There was a young lady called Bell.
Who I knew extremely well.
She worked as a dancer
And was a bit of a chancer
As all the boys will tell.
There Was A Young Man From Town
There was a young man from town
Who wore a perpetual frown.
He went out on the lash
And splashed lots of cash
But he never lost that frown.
(Note: to “go out on the lash” means to go out drinking, frequently with the intention of becoming intoxicated.
To “splash”, in this context means to spend).
There Was A Young Man Called Lee
There was a young man named Lee
Who wrote a limerick about me.
It was extremely rude
And rather crude
So I can’t repeat it you see!
K Morris - Poet 