Heels and sin
She is to him.
He paddles
Without saddles.
And cares not
For what
May be,
For he
Is in his stride
And can not
See
Beyond the pond,
Where those who ride
In waters hot
Oft times find
They lose their mind,
In a momentary desire
To play with fire.
And the cost of lust,
Is dust.
Whilst consulting the world map
I suffered a great mishap.
I spilt my wine
Along a sensative line,
Which caused a diplomatic spat!
The daisies remain,
Although not the same
As those I saw
Carpetting Nature’s floor,
When, as a child
I ran wild
And free.
I can almost see
The Daisy Chain,I made from nature’s great store.
Better to have left them on her green floor.
As it is much easier to disrupt than construct.
And the chain I composed
On the school playing field
Did yield
To time.
Am I arrogant to suppose
That this little rhyme
May outlast the brief hour
Of a daisy flower?
A young lady named Pam
Performs for gentlemen on webcam.
Each day at 3
She reads her poetry,
And then she performs on cam!
A young man by the name of Hogg
Said, “I shall blog about my new dog.
But the going it got real tough,
So the dog, who was called Rough,
Took over that blog, belonging to Hogg.
When a sultry young lady named Claire
Suggested we have a quick affair,
I said, “that naughty Miss Hocking,
Her behaviour is really quite shocking!
Do you happen to know her, Clair?”
There once was a man named Lyme
Who said, “I shall rewind time”.
So he turned the clock’s hands back,
Which caused them to go crack.
But he was unable to conquer time.
Angels in white
Make journeys of mercy
To thirsty
Men at night.
While their drivers smile
Behind dark glasses.
Time passes
And angels take wing,
Perhaps leaving a little something
Behind
(Such as a shoe)
For a man to find,
So he may say
“I remember you”.
And, perchance
Angels may grace
The self-same place
With their dance
Of pleasure and pain,
Again and again.
When a young man named Sam
Said, “have you seen my wife Pam?”.
I said, “she is under the table
With an elderly gentleman called Able.
And they offered me some ham!
At a time of lockdown
Some drown
Their sorrows, in beer or gin.
Yet alcohol is not
The only form of sin.
True, some may lose themselves in art.
But others grow hot.
Drink and art
Can not suffice.
Thoughts turn to vice.
Anticipation of pleasure,
For the coming warm weather
Will bring
(In summer and spring)
Roses into bloom.
And, despite the lockdown
Some men will not resist the perfume
Of roses.
The poet composes
And thinks “the woodland path
Along which I pass
Has no flowers in bloom,
But soon
Their scent will delight
Both day and night.
And I shall pass by
With a sigh.
Yet the woodland path
Is not wide
And when, on each side
There are such sweet blooms,
‘Tis not easy to pass,
And some may stray
From the narrow way …”.
