As I go
I make footprints in the snow.
The red postbox continues to stand,
A symbol of a vanishing land.
Footprints will go,
Covered by snow
And this dear England of mine,
Is it all in my mind?
Footprints in the Snow
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Racey Tracy
I know a pretty young lady named Tracy
Who has a reputation for being quite racey.
Dear readers, I must confess
I’ve oft seen her dress.
But rarely when being worn by Miss Tracy …
Trite
When a young lady named Miss White
Said, “your poetry it is terribly trite”.
I said, “let me compose
A poem to my rose”.
And I went home alone that night …
On A Chilly Winter’s Evening
On a chilly winter’s night
The song of a bird
I heard
As he sang to me
From a churchyard tree.
Such delight,
And poignancy.
But that was in me.
Stopped
My clock has stopped.
It’s chime
Has ceased.
One day, eternal peace
Shal be forever, mine
And thine.
I Once Knew A Drover From Dover
I once knew a drover from Dover
Who Knitted all his livestock a pullover.
A young lady walking by
Said, with a great sigh,
“Your livestock look daft in that pullover!”.
Whilst Lunching At My Gentleman’s Club
Whilst lunching at my gentleman’s club
Which is called the Good Rub.
I met a girl called Spink.
But its not what you think!
As she also cooks good grub!
Red Lights
Day and night
The red light
Does seductively glow,
And men go
In search of love, And lust.
One may find, for a while,
Solace in a girl’s painted smile.
Though some see dust
Behind their lover’s eyes.
But few are wise.
Silver Fox
An elderly gentleman named Mr Box
Is known as the silver fox.
Whilst the young women say
My hair it is grey.
But I’m not rich like Box …
We Poets Should Stick Together
A poet whose name is Heather
Said, “we poets should stick together”.
I said, “That’s true”.
And with strong glue,
I glued myself to poet Heather!
