She stamps
Her feet
Under street
Lamps at night.
Whilst elsewhere
Party girl Claire
Sits, discreet
With well shod feet
In a hotel bar
Not far
From the street.
Not Far
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Approachable Poetry Magazines for Unpublished Poets
A useful list of approachable poetry magazines for unpublished poets on Vita Brevis, most of which have an acceptance rate of 20-30 percent, https://vitabrevisliterature.com/rescources/approachable-poetry-magazines-2/
When A Young Lady of Streatham
When a young lady of Streatham
Did me with blackmail threaten,
I smiled with sweetness at her
And said, “I don’t know Claire,
And I’ve never been to Streatham!”.
On A Train Last Night
On a train last night
I thought of the earth in years to come.
There was no sun
Nor light
Of any kind. Only black, eternal night.
My light shall die
Yet, in my reverie
The earth I did see
Was itself devoid,
Void of humanity
And my sense
Is that it was not far hence.
When A Young Lady Whose Name Is Lou
When a young lady named Lou
Spanked me with her high-heel shoe,
And I said, “give me more!”,
She replied, “I hear the front door.
Its the bishop, he’s due at 2!”.
The Erotic
The erotic is a girl’s voice pleasing,
Although many a man seizing
On a word
Has oft times misheard.
The erotic is a girl standing closer than she need
Which does a man’s desire feed,
And seem
Rhymes with dream.
The erotic is a peach
Seemingly out of reach.
A ripe fruit dangling,
His feelings entangling
The erotic is a state of mind
And you may find
That the seeming hot
Is not.
Stilettos Bring Delight
Stilettos bring delight
At night,
Or they can
Cut a man
Right through, too
When A Politician Named Matt
When a politician named Matt
Maintained he never said that,
And they showed him the proof
He said, “I always tell the truth,
And the earth ’tis undoubtedly flat!”.
When A Young Lady Whose Name Is Fay
When a young lady whose name is Fay
Wore a short dress one hot summer’s day,
A vicar called Heart,
Who loved his art
Said, “Fay, would you model for me today?”
A Tree Grows
A tree grows
It’s branches entwining
With another tree,
Forming a canopy
Under which pass
A lad and his lass.
Seasons pass
And sapplings grow to maturity,
While the lad and lass
We did see
Forever lie
Under sky and tree.
K Morris - Poet 