Civilisations rise and fall.
History’s story
Is a yearning for glory,
And the sand covers all.
Civilisations
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
There Was A Young Lady With A Cucumber
There was a young lady with a cucumber
Who said,”by the great god of thunder
I shall bring down rain
And block up this drain,
But first I must chop up this cucumber!”.
Dog Hair
Your black
Soft hair in my hand.
You lack
The capacity to understand
As you lie in the sun
After your run,
That I shall find dog hair
When you are no longer there,
For hairs to carpets stick
And tears will, one day, prick
The eyes of he
Who loves thee.
(Note: my dog, Trigger is healthy and happy. But, on picking up some of his hair from my living room carpet, I was reminded of his mortality, and indeed that of all flesh).
Below
The green through my window
Pane I see,
Should I go
Down, like the rain,
And be free
Amidst the greenery below?
‘Tis a passing show
I see:
This rain,
This tree
In the garden below,
And me
Not Far
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.
Approachable Poetry Magazines for Unpublished Poets
A useful list of approachable poetry magazines for unpublished poets on Vita Brevis, most of which have an acceptance rate of 20-30 percent, https://vitabrevisliterature.com/rescources/approachable-poetry-magazines-2/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.
