I have heard nymphs are sometimes found
In the fragrant wood.
It would be good to lie down
On the leafy ground
And take delight in Aphrodite.
But no, the wood
Is full of deep mud
And poor Miss Aphrodite
Would spoil yet another nightie!
When a young lady known as Miss Lee
Said, “I know that you don’t like me!”.
And I said, “you are nice,
But I have never liked vice!”,
She said, “what if I wave the fee …!
I long for the wet woods
Where the rainy breeze
Is full of flowers and leaves
And the damp earth
Speaks of death and rebirth.
I love the wood
When birds sing after rain.
I will surely die,
And Mother Nature will remain.
But we are forever part
Of nature’s great heart.
Her vital cycle of birth,
Death and good earth.
There once was a girl named Meg
Who hid in a giant Easter egg.
But the sun shone down
And she turned chocolate brown,
And got eaten along with that egg!
On passing the golf course
On my horse named galloping thought,
I heard a blackbird trill.
At once my horse stood still
And my heart was caught
By the bird’s song.
But that stubborn old galloping horse
Did not stop long.
And my thought ran on.
I’ve just met a lady called Honey
Who was dressed as the Easter bunny.
When I offered her some lettuce
She said, “that’s not my fetish!
But sir, this bunny does love money!”
I know a young lady named Purvis
Who is known for her special service.
When the lights go down
I’ve seen the vicar frown
When the bishop disappears with Miss Purvis …
The clock shows the wrong time.
Sometimes a poem doesn’t rhyme.
I’ve heard people curse
At free verse,
But rhymes
Divine.
The rain came
And drummed on the car roof.
Now I sit
Listening to the clock’s steady tick
And thinking on the truth
That clocks, as hearts must stop.
But the rain will remain.
K Morris - Poet 