The Autumn dark is coming down.
One day I will drown
And leave the night
And the light.
For I am bound by dark
And will not fight
The inevitable night.
The Autumn Dark
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Tag Archives: rhyming poetry
An Elderly Writer Known as Ted\
There once was an elderly writer known as Ted
Who said, “burn all my works when I’m dead!”
His young lover Divine
Said, “they’re all online!
With the picture of the vicar in our bed …!”
Ennui
Me alone at home
Listening to the autumn rain.
You, on the train
Coming to relieve me of ennui.
We will play
On this rainy day.
But I can not pretend
That ennui will not descend again.
For I often find
That the rain
Hides behind a smile
You Won’t Get to Heaven
When a moral old lady named Nevin
Said, “Kevin, you won’t get to heaven!”
A gorgeous young sinner called Bell
Said, “Its more fun in hell.
And Kevin, I’ll take you to heaven …!”
A Fine Chest
When a young lady wearing a vest
Said, “do you like my chest?”
I said, “its so good to touch.
Do tell me, are you Dutch?”
And I stroked that fine wooden chest!
Unresolved
As I sat reading poetry
A figure passed me.
I wonder, in future years
Will another, without fear
See pass by
A moving phantom, as did I?
Or did I see
Some future me
As I sat alone at home
Pondering on poetry?
When a Young Lady Challenged me to a Fight
When a young lady said with delight,
“I am challenging you to a fight!”
I said to her, “Claire!
I am washing my hair!”
She said, “you did that last night!”
The Autumn Rain is Falling
The autumn rain is falling,
I hear it on my window
It’s voice calling
To me of temporary
And permanent things.
I should go below
Leaving rhyme behind.
For I am not the wind
Nor the eternal rain.
And one day I must go
Vicar Large and the Barge
When I saw the good vicar Large
Making love to young women on a barge,
I just couldn’t stop grinning
And spoke of his sinning!
He said, “you’re paid to steer this barge!”
Cold
The cold bites hard
In the churchyard.
The temperature is zero.
I know
These fallen leaves
Do not deceive.
My autumn has come.
And alone
I go home
Heading for the churchyard
K Morris - Poet 