I may compose a rhyme
To your perfect bust.
But, in course of time
We lovers will find
Our bed midst graveyard dust.
Bust
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Tag Archives: poets
There Once Was a Nymph Named Echo
There once was a nymph named Echo
Who spent all her days drinking Prosecco.
When they said, “is that nice?”,
She would repeat their words twice,
And then she would drink more Prosecco!
There Once Was a Vampire Named Dawn
There once was a vampire named Dawn
Who liked to dance on the lawn.
When they said, “is that good?”,
She would say, “I like blood.
Won’t you join me on this lawn?”.
Hope
There was heavy rain
In the churchyard
As I hurried by
Cold old stones.
Later the sun came,
And early flowers
Groped for the spring.
Cultured Miss Marr
A cultured young lady known as Marr
Has a job in a rough bar.
When she quotes Shakespeare
The customers all cheer
And dance with Marr on the bar!
Grass
Some men take their pleasure
Amidst the sweet heather
With a pretty young lass.
But all grass
Turns to hay
And the poor poet’s lay
Must end in dust.
Sleep
Sometimes I find my mind
Dwelling on love and sleep.
My lover’s kiss
Is passing bliss.
But the Reaper keeps
His special kiss
For my inevitable sleep.
Mortality
I heard a solitary bird
Sing over tombs
On a sunny February day.
I know gloom
And beauty
While he
Knows not mortality.
Purely by Accident
When I accidentally entered a striptease bar
And got accosted by Pretty Miss Marr,
I said to Miss Coral,
“Are you girls quite moral?”,
As I returned that young lady’s bra …
Simulation
When I met a philosopher of this nation
Who said, “we’re all living in a simulation”.
I gave him a big kick
And whacked him with a stick,
Which was fine as we’re in a simulation!
