The tick tock
Of the clock
Says we must
Turn to dust.
And girl’s heels clip clop
In time with the clock.
And Time’s hands measure
Our pain and pleasure.
The Tick Tock of the Clock
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Tag Archives: poets
Revising my Selected Poems
In 2019 I published my Selected Poems, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/. Since 2019 I have composed many other poems, some of which are included in book form, whilst others exist solely on this blog.
I have been thinking for some time about producing a revised and expanded second edition of my Selected Poems. I intend to begin work on this project in the near future.
As part of producing a second edition of my Selected Poems, I would be interested to hear from any of my readers. If you have a poem of mine that you believe should be included do please get in touch either by commenting below, or via email to kmorrispoet@gmail.com.
I can not guarantee to take on board all suggestions, but all comments received will be read, acknowledged and considered.
When a Young Lady Who Comes from Dover
When a young lady who comes from Dover
Said, “I want you to bend right over”,
A man named Frank
Said, “do you spank?”,
She said, “just pick up my dropped pullover!”.
When a Young Lady Playing at Dice
When a young lady playing at dice
Said, “do join me in my vice!”,
I said, “my dear Rose,
You are wearing no clothes!
Which is distracting me from my dice!”.
The Windblown Tree
I find
This wind
Does bring
To mind
The passing of everything.
The tide
Of lust
Does rise
Then go.
I know
That I am dust.
The windblown trees
Accept the breeze
And entrance
In dance
Of pleasure
In summer weather.
As do we.
She is Not Meant
She is not meant
For such as me.
Yet, should she,
In madness, consent,
I would be happy
For a little while.
Smile. And repent.
Gwen’s Clever Old Hen
There was a young lady named Gwen
Who owned a most clever old hen.
It’s name was White,
And it could write,
As it had swallowed Gwen’s fountain pen!
Dawn Who Likes to Dance on My Lawn
I know a young lady named Dawn
Who likes to dance on my lawn.
When I say, “heels ruin my grass!”,
She says, “all things must surely pass!”.
That naughty and philosophical young lady Dawn!
Miss Heart’s Art
I know a young lady named Heart
Who is famous for showing her art.
Some call her rude,
When she models nude.
But I say Heart shows her art …!
Bangles
My heart entangled
With girlish bangles.
A girl’s jewels
Oft make fools
Of weak man
But who can
Jangling bangles resist
On feminine wrist?
K Morris - Poet 