When a young lady named Leigh
Told me she had a PHD,
That naughty Miss Spink
Said, “it’s in kink”.
And Leigh showed it to me …
Leigh and Her PHD
Leave a reply
Tag Archives: rhyming poetry
December Author Newsletter
My December Author Newsletter is now available. In it, I talk about my forthcoming interview on Vancouver Co-Op Radio, and whether my visual impairment influences my writing. To read or subscribe to my newsletter please follow this link: https://mailchi.mp/8b5f8f289d55/december-author-newsletter
Claire and the Millionaires
My friend whose name is Claire
Has married many an elderly millionaire.
Their ends where all bad
But Claire is not sad,
As she’s just become a billionaire!
My Dating Experience
When I joined a website called Virgin Dating
The ad said, “its time to stop waiting!”.
I have had many a date
With a young lady named Kate.
And, my dear readers, I am still waiting …
My New Girlfriend’s Shoes
Whilst drunk on very cheap booze
I borrowed my new girlfriend’s shoes.
I walked all around
This familiar old town.
And lost my girlfriend and shoes!
I make Her Mine
I make her mine
With a kiss.
But no,
It is not so.
For her mind
Runs free
Of me.
And behind
All the gloss,
Hides innocence
Half lost.
Izzy
I know a gorgeous lady named Izzy
Who, on account of being incredibly busy
Sent her rather plain cousin Kate
To meet me for a date.
But I had arranged to see Izzy!
Paul the Anarchist
There once was an anarchist named Paul
Who said, “all governments they must fall!”.
So he huffed and he puffed,
And he wrote lots of stuff.
And governments took no notice of Paul.
—
There once was an anarchist named Paul
Who said, “all governments they must fall!”.
So he huffed and he puffed,
Until governments said, “that’s enough!
You have bored us into submission, Paul!”.
When A Young Lady Named Miss Doyle
When a young lady named Miss Doyle
Said, “have you seen my massage oil?”.
I said, “your behaviour is truly shocking!
I can hear the good vicar knocking!
Ah, that’s why you want the oil!”.
When An Elderly Spinster Named Jean
When an elderly spinster named Jean
Called me a wicked old libertine.
My new friend Miss Hocking
Said, “I’ve lost my stocking.
And Jean, what is a libertine?”.
K Morris - Poet 