A naughty young lady named Bella
Had more than just 1 fella,
But a bishop called Paul
Didn’t like that at all,
So saved her, by marrying Bella!
A Naughty Young Lady Named Bella
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Leigh Who Likes Erotic Poetry
A young lady named Leigh
Is fond of erotic poetry,
Which she recites each night
By the moon’s soft light,
Whilst looking straight at me!
A young lady named Leigh
Is extremely fond of erotic poetry,
Which she writes each night
By the star’s bright light,
Whilst I’m hiding up a tree!
When A Young Lady Whose Name Is Yvette
When a young lady whose name is Yvette
Said, “my hair is very wet”,
And I said, “come in from the rain”,
She replied with the greatest disdain,
“But then my hair would not be wet!”.
A Cynic Reflects on “Love”
A kiss
Paid for
From a whore
May
Some say
Bring bliss.
Whilst the kiss
After dinner and fine wine
From a pretty maid
Is bliss
And you have not paid
For company,
Which is free.
I Perceive The Dead Leaves
I perceive
The dead
Leaves.
It is said
That civilisations die.
I
Have my
Poetry
And am free
To express
That democracy’s dress
May,
so easily, fray.
As I Ascended The Darkened Stair\
As I ascended the darkend stair
I met a young lady called Claire
Who said, “I am with certainty knowing
Where we 2 are now going”.
She’s a naughty young lady is Claire!
My Guest Post On Short Prose
I was honoured to appear on Gabriela’s wonderful blog, (a writer I greatly admire).
For my guest post, please follow this link, https://shortprose.blog/2019/09/26/meet-a-wonderful-poet-kevin-morris-guest-post-poetry/
Death and the Poet
Back in 2015, I wrote “Epitaph On A Poet”. Looking back at my composition, I detect sadness with, perhaps a touch of humour:
A book of poems upon his grave
Could not the poet save.
The few his words touched
Failed to keep him from the dust.
When A Lady With Expertise In Latin
When a lady with expertise in latin
Dressed in a short dress of satin,
A little known poet called Morris
Read from The Odes of Horace,
But alas, he did lack any latin!
When a lady with expertise in latin
Dressed in a short dress of satin,
A little known poet called Morris
Read from The Odes of Horace,
Whilst dressed in silk and pink satin!
The Extraordinary Shall Become Ordinary
The extraordinary
Soon becomes ordinary.
And man does require
A more extreme
Tingle to kindle
His fire
Of desire.
For when a dream
Becomes reality
Often we see
The banality
Of it all
But, the writing being on the wall
We fall
Into a more extreme dream
And run
After a still hotter sun,
But our fun
Shall become banal
And we shall
Continue to run
After the setting
Sun,
Regretting
The bed
Where love is dead.
Yet it is not so
For, in your heart you know
That love and care
Was never there.
