When a young lady named miss Hocking
Lost a fine silk stocking,
The bishop’s wife looked grim
And spoke of great sin.
And the bishop’s dog retrieved that stocking …
Miss Hocking’s Lost Stocking
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
She Has Cut Her Hair
Devil-may-care,
She, has cut her hair
And her ribbons gay
Have gone away
He
Thinks of Hardy’s “Ruined Maid.
While she
Has no knowledge of poetry.
Hardy’s Maid
Was devil-may care
With feathers in her hair.
For the poet wished to satirise.
But you will find
That girls of a certain kind
Have eyes
That see behind
The smile, of the unstaid maid,
Although they have heard
Not a word of Hardy’s poetry.
Nightmares
In nightmares
The dark
Stares
Within our heart.
And, when
Good men
Awake
They take
A look inside
Their heart.
And decide
“Is that fantasy
The whole,
Or a mere fractionality
Of me?
‘Tis fortunate none can see
Into my soul.
And the lies
Behind my eyes.
When an Ill-Begotten Young Man Named Cotton
When an ill-begotten young man named Cotton
Said, “many a girl’s name I’ve forgotten.
And now I’m drunk
As the proverbial skunk”.
I said, “sir, you are absolutely rotten!”.
My Swing
A young lady named Ling
Comes round to mine to swing.
The vicar’s pretty wife Lee
Takes tea with Ling and me,
And then we go and swing.
My Forthcoming Poetry Collection
On 21 August 2019, I published my “Selected Poems, (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/). The book encompasses poems composed by me between 2013-2019, and is available in both a Kindle and paperback edition.
I am delighted to announce that I shall be releasing a further collection of my poetry in June/July 2020.
As a taster, I have included below my poem “Dead Stop”, which appears in the forthcoming collection:
“Perhaps some things should not be said
In poetry,
Or maybe
They can not be said
Meaningfully by me.
As does nearly always happen
My train stopped, dead
At Clapham
(Though not for its proper, brief
Stay). We did not pull away.
What can be said
About grief
(Not experienced by me)?
Perhaps some things should not be said
In poetry.
When, that evening I came back
The track
At Clapham
Was clear.
We made good time.
Though a drear
Thought did cross my mind,
But I find
That some things can not easily be said
In rhyme
By me, as I sit here, warm
Thinking of the ajacent platform
And how our train stopped, dead,
But, perhaps some things should not be said
In poetry,
Or at least by me”.
At present my collection is untitled. Therefore, in the time between now and it’s publication I need to come up with a meaningful title for my book!
I will, of course keep you updated on the books progress here.
Kevin
There Once was a Kindly Old Squire
There once was a kindly old squire
Who, on seeing his young housemaid Mariah
Go down on her knees
To shell beans and peas,
Went down to assist young miss Mariah.
There Once Was a Man Named Poe
There once was a man named Poe
Whose work I happen to know.
A naughty young lady named Lee
Swears solemly that she knows me.
But I’ve never met Lee or Poe!
Red Light
When a young lady named White,
Who was standing under a red light
Said to me,
“Love isn’t free!”.
I wished miss White good night!
I Can Not Command the Wind
I can not command
The free
Wind,
For he
Does not understand
This social distance
Thing.
And I have no resistance
To the wind.
K Morris - Poet 