There once was a bull from Hull
Who said, “I am feeling quite dull.
I’ll go with Miss Hop
To that new China shop.
The one that’s just opened in Hull!”.
A Bull in a China Shop
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Lou’s Aesthetic
When a poet known as Miss Lou
Walked around town wearing only 1 shoe,
They said, “your verse is pathetic!
But we do like your aesthetic,
As you look great wearing 1 shoe!”.
Morbid Miss Beth
A most nervous young lady named Beth
Was known for her fear of death.
Her old aunt Louise
Gave a great sneeze,
And frightened that young lady to death!
With Apologies to T S. Eliot
The women come and go.
But talk not of Michaelangelo.
One drunk on booze
Leaves her stiletto shoes
Behind for Prufrock to find.
No mermaids sing for him.
But the girl was slim
And provided some delight
To a poet’s night.
When he turns to write
He finds that Miss Follett
Has taken his wallet,
And ponders on the Wasteland
Which a few understand!
Happy Easter!
A young lady who calls herself Honey
Likes to dress as the Easter bunny.
After food and wine
We crossed that line –
Then that bunny she stole my money!
Happy Easter to all of my readers!
The Old Tree
In my adulthood
I passed by the tree
Well known to me
In my childhood.
It stands by a path
Where many have passed
That old tree
Without a glance or sigh.
Our lives move fast
As we rush to catch
Some form of transport.
And we all are caught
In time’s great web.
All our loves and lusts
Must turn to dust.
And even this great tree,
Which will outlast me,
Will be dead
Not Quite Adlestrop
Sitting on the platform,
Waiting for my train to stop,
I thought of Adlestrop.
I yawned.
Someone lit a cigarette.
Noone complained
And no authority figure came.
I hated that cigarette
And prayed for a train.
Yes I remember Adlestrop
And the poet’s name.
—
The above poem came to me as I sat at Gipsy Hill railway station in south-east London. I doubt the gentleman who shared his cigarette with those on the platform (including me), has heard of Edward Thomas. I suspect he has no care for poetry. He certainly had no consideration for his fellow commuters.
Rainbow
On a late March day
The spring hides away.
The sun may come
Interspersed with cold rain.
Perhaps I should go
In search of a rainbow
For I am told
That rainbows lead to gold.
I doubt tis so
But a rainbow
In a poor poet’s heart
Is surely art
And worth more than gold.
Threatened with Chains
When a young lady brandishing whips and chains
Said, “do you like a girl with brains?”,
I said, “dear Lou,
I most certainly do!
But please can you stop brandishing those chains!”
Fragility
I heard children at play
On a spring day.
Their voices full of pleasure
In sunny weather.
The ice cream van came,
Then the wild wind
And the rain
Came and shook the glass
In my window frames
And reminded me
Of man’s fragility.
K Morris - Poet 