She arrives, tottering
On heels. Her breasts pressed
Against her too tight dress.
He has been pottering.
And, on hearing the familiar click clack
Opens wide
The door to her
Claire,
(well, its something like that)
Slides in, wearing matching black
Dress and shoes.
They drink booze
And chat.
Then retire
To the place of desire,
Where the curtains flap,
And the booze goes flat.
A young lady named Kirsty,
Who was feeling extremely thirsty,
Took a job in a club,
Called the Oil and Rub,
Where gentlemen go when they’re thirsty!
When a young man named Lee
Said, “my employees all hate me!
They haven’t yet been paid,
As out partying I’ve stayed!”.
I said, “have another brandy, Lee!”.
When a young lady named Leigh
Invited me round for some tea,
And I said, “will there be cake?”,,
She said, “you should make no mistake,
There will be more than tea!”.
A good introduction to free verse on the blog Interesting Literature, https://interestingliterature.com/2020/02/what-is-free-verse-introduction/.
The article discusses the difference between free and blank verse, and provides examples of both.
I saw a tree,
Split, in 2,
Like me.
Long it had stood,
(And still grew).
And all it’s wood
Seemed good
To me.
So far as I could see.
He called on Aphrodite
To keep him company
At night.
But she,
Being otherwise engaged,
Paged
Lizzie,
Who suggested Claire
(As Lizzie
Was busy
washing her hair).
But Claire
Being blind drunk,
Recommended a rascally old monk!
So, in despair
He contacted Joan,
Who told him where
To go, over the telephone!
All the world does know
That a man with much dough
May buy
Expensive art,
And catch a young girl’s eye.
But he will find
That her heart
And mind
Are not part
Of the deal.
But, still, he may steal
More than a kiss,
From a calculating, miss.
When a young lady whose name is Ling
Said, “I shall slip into a slinky thing”,
I just had the time
To compose a brief rhyme.
Its known as a limerick kind of thing
An insect
Brushed against my head.
I showed it respect,
For soon it will be dead
And an insect
Is fragile
As a girl’s smile.
A kiss.
Or the bliss
Of bed.
And the wind blew chill
And will
Do still,
When I am dead.
K Morris - Poet 