Sex on legs.
Thoughts of beds
Invade his head.
Lust will drive him insane,
Each interviewee, different but, somehow all the same.
“Those shoes, why did she choose
To wear them?
Only to please men?”,
Still, the stiletto shoe, may clinch the interview.
By the light of my guttering candle
I found a young lady’s sandle,
And on my newly made bed
I saw a pretty blonde head,
Which caused me to drop my candle!
Poetry maybe, for better or worse,
Of the kind we call free verse.
Each muse does her poet choose,
Though some may say, that I lie.
Evening, your dress
Short. Your bought
Caress
Offered only to
Rich men when
They pay for you.
Her dress
Did cling
To her in springtime,
Which caused
The poet passing by
To pause,
And compose
A rhyme
To fleeting time.
But do you suppose
That he did not sigh,
And, in his secret heart
Ponder on more than art. ?
A schoolboy
Crush on a girl of similar age.
Imagine his great joy
When she accepted his lemonade.
But he did regret
For her skirt
Got wet
And the game
Of flirt
He played
Ended in shame
And the loss of his lemonade!
Today I passed by
The bush, so green
In the light rain.
‘Tis a thing so often seen
By me,
This tree.
Yet I returned again
And touched both leaf and tree,
For the seas will still roar
Though I shall be,
No more
A young man named Hogg
Owns a very bad dog.
It stole the stocking
Of poor miss Hocking,
And Hogg he stole her clog!
—
A young lady dressed in pink
Gave me a knowing wink
And said to me, “come and see
What lies behind that fine old oaktree”,
And her hair it had a kink.
Continue reading
An attractive young lady named Claire
Is forever washing her hair.
I’ve had a hot date
With her best mate Kate,
But today Kate’s washing her hair!
A beautiful young critic named Nell
Said, “in poetry you must show not tell”.
But, when I showed her mine
Over dinner and the finest of French wine,
My poetry was lauded by Nell!
K Morris - Poet 