I make tea
While she
Takes a shower.
I know
In an hour
Or so
She will go.
She smokes a cigarette
At my open window.
I regret
The cigarette.
But women and wine,
Are they not divine?
(Note, “Women and Wine” is a thread running through the poetry of Ernest Christopher Dowson).
When a young lady who comes from Burton
Came round and swung from my bedroom curtain,
And I said, “don’t fall!”
My cynical old friend Paul
Said, “she fell long ago swinging in Burton!”
More often than not
I stop
By the graveyard plot
Where a soft breeze
Rustles trees.
Yet, outside this spot
I hear it not.
Whilst dancing on my most favourite bar
I was joined by barmaid Miss Marr.
All the glasses went flying
And old ladies started crying.
And they still haven’t found that bra!
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To get her poor doggy a bone.
But when she got there
She found Miss Claire,
Keeping company with the good vicar Bone!
There once was a girl named Louise
Who was famous for sailing the seas.
She cooked a bad man
In her large frying pan.
And the pirates all deserted the seas!
Dare he find
Her inner mind
Behind pumping thighs
And neutral eyes?
The best try
Not to objectify
By attempting to find
Her inner mind.
And in his bed
She maintains a shred
Of her privacy
By covering up after.
I have found a stiletto shoe
Which I think belongs to Lou.
I’ve also discovered a pretty sock
And a very short party frock.
Or do they belong to you!
I’m dating a pretty vampire named Wood
Who is rather fond of men’s blood.
But she also likes wine,
Which suits me real fine.
As I’m rather fond of my blood!
There was a young lady named Wong
Who liked to bong on her gong.
When the vicar comes for tea
She invariably sits on my knee.
But now lets return to Wong’s gong!
—
I know a young lady named Wong
Who likes to bong on her gong.
When the vicar comes for tea
She invariably sits on my knee,
And Wong she bongs on her gong!
K Morris - Poet 