All this must pass away.
Yet, there is still time
To rhyme
Of nymphs in short dresses
Who play
In glades
Of the poet’s fertile mind.
While there is Time
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Tag Archives: poets
My Trip to Bath
I travelled on a train to Bath
Which was manned by a skeleton staff.
It was on the night of Halloween
And all the passengers did loudly scream.
But the skeletons got us to Bath!
Fantasies
Sometimes I think
A thought
I ought
Not to think.
The devil winks
At me
And whispers, “she
May say
Yes”. To caress
And kiss
Would bring bliss
To me
For a while.
Maybe she
Would confusedly smile,
And say
“I never knew
That you
Felt that way
About me!
I must go!”.
But, maybe
She would stay.
Best to hold
My tongue
For words flung
Carelessly away
May come back
To bite.
But o the delight
Of 1 single night!
But hot fantasy
Is not reality.
So I
Must try
To let it be.
Curry and Rice
When a young lady serving curry and rice
Said, “do you all like my hot spice?”.
The girls said, “Rose!
Put on some clothes!”.
But the men all liked the hot spice!
My Reputation
When a young lady of this great nation
Said, “sir, you have a terrible reputation!”.
I said, “come see my etching.
You will find it most fetching!”,
Which confirmed to that young lady my reputation …!”.
Unmade
Gazing at my unmade bed
As a chill breeze
Enters in, I remember dead
Love. and girls who please,
(Though not for love).
Nor do I love
Such women.
But when we partake
In lust
Man half-believes
He can escape
The dust.
For lust deceives.
My Dirty Weekend
When a close friend of my girlfriend
Invited us to spend a dirty weekend,
We entered the deep wood
And fell in the mud!
But lets return to our dirty weekend …!
Abandoned
They couldn’t stay long.
A remembrance of hands
And an abandoned hairband,
Kept for a while,
Brings a sad smile
To a man’s ageing face
At a girl’s lost grace.
Work Meeting
As the meeting neared it’s end
My old friend
Who had not
Yet said a word,
(Leastways, I heard
him not),
Interrupted, and did say,
“Tick tock”.
Yet the clock
Is forever ticking away
our day,
Though oft we heed him not.
My Friend Miss Khan
I know a young lady named Khan
Who invites me into her old barn.
In the new stable
Miss Mabel is able,
While Khan works hard in that barn.
K Morris - Poet 