In childhood we play
With fairies. But they
Do not stay
And we engage
On the world’s stage.
Then, in old age
We fancy
We see
A fairy
Ere we enter eternity.
Fairies
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Tag Archives: poets
Miss Mar’s Memoir
My friend whose name is Miss Mar
Wrote a memoir just wearing her bra.
When I attended her book signing
All the men they where lining
Up to see her memoir and bra …
The Ghost of Marx
Whilst walking through some very nice parks
I met with the ghost of Marx.
He said, “be my pal
And read my Das Kapital”.
But I preferred to enjoy those parks!
Working Girl
She expertly fits
A balloon.
Sits. Wriggles hips.
And soon
His fun
Is done.
She is his confessional
And as a professional
Listens for a while.
Then, with a smile,
“Darling that was fun.
Now I must run”.
Old Time
On hearing my clock chime
I think on Father Time.
I touch my grey hair
And wish for a woman ere
My ageing clock does finally stop
Ending time and my passing rhyme
Pure Miss Moore
I know a young lady named Moore
Who has a reputation for being pure.
She came round at midnight
With her friend Miss White,
Who’s reputation is as pure as Moore …
Hairclip
A lost hairclip,
It’s owner unknown
Records a slip
Of hip
Against hip.
Lou Who Fell into a Pot of Stew
When a young lady named Lou
Fell into a pot of stew,
A chef called Doyle
Said, “you will spoil
That stew you fell into Lou!”.
A Rake’s Life
After the women go
I so often know
The meaning of zero.
Sometimes there is pleasure
But, when they go
Often I feel zero.
Sometimes I wonder whether
They also know zero.
I avoid
The void
In nights
Of bought delights.
But, when they go
Often I know
The emptiness of zero.
A Wicked Rumour
I know a pretty young perfumer
Who is spreading a wicked rumour,
About me and her,
And gorgeous Miss Claire.
How sad its just a rumour …!
