I met a young lady named Steed
Who said, “I have a great need!”,
Dear reader, I must confess
She was wearing no dress
Which distracted my steed from his feed!
I Met a Young Lady Named Steed
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Tag Archives: rhyming poetry
A Rose Tight Closed
A rose
Tight closed.
All petals fall
But not all
Roses open
And unspoken
Lust is dust
Fairies
In childhood we play
With fairies. But they
Do not stay
And we engage
On the world’s stage.
Then, in old age
We fancy
We see
A fairy
Ere we enter eternity.
Miss Mar’s Memoir
My friend whose name is Miss Mar
Wrote a memoir just wearing her bra.
When I attended her book signing
All the men they where lining
Up to see her memoir and bra …
The Second Coming by W. B. Yeats
Sometimes, when I consider the state of the world, I am reminded of the Irish poet W. B. Yeats’s poem The Second Coming. I am no millenarian, however the poet’s Second Coming continues to resonate with me
A Summer Butterfly
A butterfly
On a
Sunny day
Flew by
My Labrador.
A snap of jaw.
And our summer chat
Of this and that.
All things must die
As the summer butterfly.
Death’s jaws will close
On man and rose.
You and I
Are but butterflies
Who love and laugh
And then must pass.
The Ghost of Marx
Whilst walking through some very nice parks
I met with the ghost of Marx.
He said, “be my pal
And read my Das Kapital”.
But I preferred to enjoy those parks!
Working Girl
She expertly fits
A balloon.
Sits. Wriggles hips.
And soon
His fun
Is done.
She is his confessional
And as a professional
Listens for a while.
Then, with a smile,
“Darling that was fun.
Now I must run”.
Old Time
On hearing my clock chime
I think on Father Time.
I touch my grey hair
And wish for a woman ere
My ageing clock does finally stop
Ending time and my passing rhyme
Pure Miss Moore
I know a young lady named Moore
Who has a reputation for being pure.
She came round at midnight
With her friend Miss White,
Who’s reputation is as pure as Moore …
K Morris - Poet 