Tag Archives: poets

Call Girl

She arrives in heels and skirt
Or perchance
In jeans and t-shirt.
‘Tis the oldest dance
Which the ignorant call romance.

Does not see
The deals
She seals
In rooms where the lonely sit
Waiting for “their bit
Of fun”.

Perhaps she will leave with the morning sun,
Or be done
With a quick flick
Of her supple wrist, and depart in a cloud of scent
And with a click
Of heel, leaving him to smile
For a while
Or maybe repent
Of the money spent


I Know A Young Lady Called Bess

I know a young lady called Bess
Who’s love she did confess
To a man named Bill,
(She loves him still),
But alas he doesn’t love Bess!

There Was A Young Lady Called Lou

There was a young lady called Lou
Who starred in movies most blue.
A priest named Hocking
Found them most shocking.
As for me, I watched them too …!

A naughty young lady called Lou
Stars in movies most blue.
My old friend Mark
Says he walks in the park
But I think he watches them too.


When A Morbid Young Man Called Guy

When a morbid young man called Guy
Said “I am going to die!”,
His good friend Baker,
Who worked as an undertaker
Made reply,
“I can offer you a discount, Guy!”.


He almost wept
At the impermanence of things.

Day brings
On the night.
Rome once shone bright.
Man’s desire
For empire
And a girl’s bright
Soon dies.

This table
So stable
Must go.
The wind will blow
And snuff out the light
Bringing down the eternal

There is no fiend infernal
Just the knowledge that I
And all things will,
One day die.
Would that my mind
Could be still.

In humankind
We find
The wish to procreate,
Ere it is too late
And our candle dies.

Man sighs
In a girl’s arms.
The wind will blow.
Her charms
(And his) must go
But perchance
Passion’s dance
Will leave one behind
To walk on a windswept day
And know
That as the wind does blow
All this will pass away.