When an elderly gentleman named Mr Foster
Choked on some cheese whilst in Gloucester.
A doctor called Louise
Said, “he liked cheese!
And he died whilst eating Double Gloucester!”
The Joys of Cheese
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Walking Home in the Pouring Rain
Walking home in the pouring rain
I pondered on AI
And those who continue to maintain
The inevitability of progress.
The rain continued to fall.
Although I heard
No human word
Nature seemed to laugh
As I passed
Along the familiar churchyard path.
Kevin Morris Poet’s New Show on World Poetry Cafe
I am pleased to let you know that my new show on the World Poetry Café is now live and can be found here https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-july-24-2025-kevin-morris/
As many of you will be aware, I am a regular guest on the World Poetry Café. However, I now have a dedicated monthly show, during which I read and discuss not only my own work but that of others. In this podcast, I read A. E. Housman’s wonderful poem, “On Wenlock Edge” and talked about the life of the poet. In addition, I also answered questions from the hosts regarding my view as to how people can best start their unique journey into poetry.
My segment appears approximately 15 minutes into the podcast, which also includes me reading several of my own poems.
Wet Mops
When young ladies waving very wet mops
Jumped and danced on the table tops,
All the old gentlemen cheered.
While I shaved my beard.
And the waiters they called the cops!
Only 9
When a young lady who is 9
Said, “all boys are far from divine!”,
And with her water pistol
Blasted them all to Bristol!
They forgave her as she’s only 9!
Draughts or Chess
I know an extremely pretty young barmaid
And many a game we have played.
When I say to her, “Bess,
Shall we play draughts or chess?”,
She winks at me does that barmaid …!
When it Rains
When it rains
I try not to complain
For in the drought
Flowers die out
And we all need
To feed on the rain.
Fleeting
Traffic goes by
It’s sound amplified by rain.
A plane flies
In the summer sky
And birds sing.
While I compose my poetry
Touching on eternity
And the fleeting spring.
Heaven
When a beautiful young lady said, “Kevin,
At seven I’ll send you to heaven!”.
I said to her, “darling Heather,
I look forward to the pleasure!”,
Then she produced a pistol at seven!
Perfunctory
After their perfunctory hug
She leaves his flat.
She knows the street is cold.
Though she has never experienced that –
Just his snug flat
Where time passes
In wine glasses.
And 2 bodies meet
Under the unjudging sheet.
K Morris - Poet 