As I older grow
The dance
Of romance
Does slow,
Although, I still the dance floor scan
With a half-formed plan.
But for what?
I know not
As I Older Grow
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Tag Archives: romance
When A Pretty Young Miss
When a pretty young miss
Went in search of a kiss
Her sister Ling
Said, “men want only one thing,
So stay at home young miss …”.
—
When a pretty young miss
Went in search of a kiss
Her sister Ling
Said, “love does sting
So be careful who you kiss …”.
The Hair Of The Dog
We do what we shouldn’t.
I wouldn’t
Enquire
Into another’s desire
For when the wine flows
The staid
Maid
Shows …
When the day is warm
Bees to flowers swarm,
Birds sing
And the sting
Seems far away.
They say
That the hangover cure
Is the hair of the dog.
Good god
Are they sure!?
Colours Converge
Colours converge
And the black does merge
With the white.
The night
Is sweet
And colours greet
In starlight.
An Observation
The moralist judgement passes
On men in glasses
Who make passes
At pretty lasses.
While the wise observe that those who criticise,
Will never find favour in a girl’s bright eyes.
(Written in response to https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/observe/).
At The Start
At the start
A heart
I sought.
I thought
That I caught
Delicious fish,
A dainty dish
For a sorrowing king,
But the thing
Was an eel.
The first deal
Being done
I continued to run
After fun.
The sun
Sometimes shone
(As it does today)
As I half-heartedly did play
At romance.
I still dance
From time to time
And, perchance
The false
Waltz
Is set down in rhyme.
Love Unrequited
“Unrequited” can be found in “Refractions” by K Morris
On seeing a happy couple
On seeing a happy couple, I smile
For there is no denial
That love
Is good.
Yet, after a while
I can not help but ponder on
How love is here, then gone.
Each joke
Which now produces laughter
May cause her to choke
On her anger in the end.
Or perhaps she will pretend
And maintain
A fixed smile to hide her disdain.
Coupledom is fun
Until her dress, thrown haphazard on the floor
Loses it’s alure
And his sweaty feet
Forever defeat
Passion’s heat.
Future Love
In the future, will robots dress
To impress?
And will men and women sigh
Over a lover’s imperfect thigh?
And choose
To lose
Their very being
In the never seeing
Robot eye?
For therein does lie
Perfection,
For there can be no rejection
For you or I.
And one can not sin
With a thing of tin.
In My Youth
In my youth
To tell truth
Every girl appeared to me
To be
A spark to ignite.
My flame burned bright
And I would take delight
In puppy dreams.
Now it seems
That I have too much
As I at nought but phantoms clutch.
I have delighted
In desire
Unrequited
And received a kind of satisfaction
Through what the vulgar term “action”.
Their fire
Is often cold, although
A few I know
Make a show
Of pretending it is not so.
K Morris - Poet 