A young lady whose name is Kate
Said, “the evening it grows very late”.
So I gave her a kiss,
And she cried out in bliss.
Then her father he opened the gate!
The Kiss
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Time
On a beautiful spring night
I heard, with some delight
The gentle tick tock
Of a long deceased clock.
Time is always there.
Yet I care
For the tick tock
Of an individual clock.
Each, separate timepiece
Must,
One day
Cease.
And I shall go away,
And all the philosophy discussed,
Shall turn to dust.
Whilst Walking In The Forest Green
Whilst walking in the forest green
I met with the fairy queen,
Who said,”la belle dame sans merci”.
I said, “do, please excuse me,
But is this a Keatsian dream?”.
Heat
Walking through the wood
In this weather hot
I think on should,
And should not.
I shall be good.
But, I have heard tell
That nymphs herein
Dwell.
Some say, that they
Are shy.
I shall stare at the sky
For, therein,
Sin
Is not.
Above, the hot
Sky,
Whilst below
Nymphs go
By.
I Walked The Woodland Path
I
Walked the woodland path
And passed
By
Tall, slender flowers.
Now I
Traverse, in verse
That self-same path,
And grow flowers
In my mind.
The flowers
May be gone tomorrow.
For I find
That we borrow
Time.
True, many a rose
Has been emmortalised in rhyme
But the poet knows,
That he has limited time.
When A Rather Large Honey Bee
When a rather large honey bee
Stung me on my knee,
And my friend Miss Meek
Said, “turn the other cheek”,
I said, “you must mean knee!”.
When A Young Lady Named Lou
When a young lady named Lou
Said, “I’m only wearing 1 shoe”.
I looked at her really hard
And said, “you are such a card”.
As she’d painted her legs bright blue
When A Young Man Whose Name Is Guy
When a young man whose name is Guy
Said, “would you like a pork pie?”,
And I said, “do you have some?”,
He said, “no, just this hot summer sun,
Which shines in yonder deep blue sky”.
When A Young Lady Named Yvette
When a young lady named Yvette
Said, “let us play Russian Roulette”.
And I said, “is the gun loaded?”,
She said, “the old civilisation has imploded,
So let us both be wed!”.
A Middle-class Lass, and a Ghetto Girl
A middle-class lass,
And a ghetto
Girl, both possess the power
To entertain for an hour.
Or, with their stiletto
To pierce the heart
Of men who obsess
Over a girl’s short dress,
And hide inside their art.
K Morris - Poet 