A Minor Called Morris

by | Dec 11, 2007 | Poetry | 0 comments

The problem started with a minor called Morris,
Her sensuous body made me neglect Doris,
As I polished and caressed every delicate part,
Completely obsessed right from the start.

The joy of a rally weekend with my mistress,
Was brought to a halt by my wife’s distress.
“Next time join us” I gently implored.
She did, and suddenly Morris was adored.

She borrowed my keys, made a duplicate set,
Now completely obsessed with my beautiful pet,
By deed poll changed the name to Boris,
Now turned into a male, no longer my Morris.

Then one morning they left in a hurry,
To a place somewhere in Surrey,
My wife drove off with my mistress,
To live with this bloke called Horace.

Now Morris or Boris lives with Doris and Horace,
I am left on my own to seek solace,
So I’ve found me another of quite different rank.
I’m now driving out with an ex-army tank.


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