I once met a very bad lad
Who said, “your poetry makes me sad!”.
I said to him “Moore!
You are a terrible bore!”,
As I soundly beat that bad lad!
I Once Met a Very Bad Lad
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Tag Archives: rhyming poetry
The Old Tree
I heard an ugly sawing sound
As an old oak came down.
It was the tree or the wall
That had to fall
So the old oak had to go.
Looking out my window
I see another ancient tree
Looking back at me.
It’s greenery gave me shade
During the recent heatwave.
This tree was here long before I came
And may well remain
When I am one with wind and rain.
But all things fall
In the end, however much we pretend it is not so.
This tree will go
And another grow. Well, I hope tis so.
Me, the Squire and Moriah
As I sat by a blazing fire
With the squire and his housemaid Moriah,
I said to her, “Rose!
You are wearing no clothes!”.
She said, “yes! But my name’s Moriah!”
The Rude Ghoul
I once met a very rude ghoul
Who insisted on calling me a fool.
I said, “if you persist
I shall call an exorcist
And then we’ll see whose the fool!”
I Met a Young Man Named Lear
I met a young man named Lear
Who dragged me around by my ear.
I gave him a clout
Then, with a great shout
I fed him to hungry Miss Rear!
My Very Great Passion
I have developed a very great passion
For a young lady who loves fashion.
Her name is Miss Lou
And she wears 1 shoe.
Which she says is the latest fashion!
A Crow Laughs
A crow laughs
As I traverse the lonely path
Of aching lust,
Where autumn leaves turn to dust.
Miss Mar and the Vicar’s Spouse
I met a young lady known as Miss Mar
Who was speeding along in her brand new car.
She said, “I’ve left the vicar’s house
As I’m being chased by his spouse!”.
I said, “ah! That’s where you left your bra!”
Yvette’s Pet
I met a young lady named Yvette
Who asked me to be her pet.
She said, “join Varnish,
Whose wearing a harness”.
I said, “Yvette! We’ve only just met!”
I Leave Dry Leaves
I leave dry leaves behind.
Yet, I find
Leaves still whisper to me
Of my mortality.
Often they sound the same as rain.
I will return again
For they are part of my heart.
And poetry may live on
When I am gone.
While the rain will remain
K Morris - Poet 