K. Morris's Blog, page 418

When A Young Lady Whose Name is Sue

When a young lady whose name is Sue
Said, “its perfectly true!”.
I made reply,
“Young lady you lie!
I can’t believe that of Lou!”.

There Once Was A Man With A Beard

There once was a man with a beard
Who the people thought rather weird.
He lived in a tumbled down house
Along with a mouse,
Of which he was afeared!

—

There once was a man with a beard
Whose hair was long and seared.
He lived all alone
In a castle of stone
And he never shaved his beard!

First Time

Not quite knowing what to do
She removes a shoe
Then, for the first time,
Is immortalised in rhyme

Echo

LITERARY REMAINS

Nature sings with her chorus of choice
giving each creature their own voice
so I pity those with deafened ear

who cannot hear.
who cannot hear.

© Literary Remains

View original post

One Leaf, Lost Amongst A Myriad Trees

One leaf, lost amongst a myriad trees
Though, perchance, someone sees
(Or has seen)
My book. And, having looked, does glean
Something beyond the machine.

Running a poetry blog – do you need a dedicated domain?

[image error]

The purpose of this post is to relate my experience of setting up a dedicated domain (kmorrispoet.com), on wordpress.com, to promote my poetry.

Please note, I am not a technical expert. For detailed support on setting up a wordpress.com domain, please refer to WordPress’s support pages which can be found here, https://en.support.wordpress.com/domains/. While my host of choice is WordPress, it is also possible to purchase a domain and connect it to Blogger.

For anyone interested in connecting...

An Anoying Young Lady Named White

An anoying young lady named White
Keeps me awake at night.
At 12 am
I am sleeping when
She sings “Silent night!”.

—

An anoying young lady named White
Keeps me awake at night.
At 12 am
I am sleeping when
She dances a sailor’s hornpipe!

—

I said to my friend Miss White
“Your company is a true delight.
We have strolled together
Through all kinds of weather,
But must you swing from the bedroom light?”

Another Poem?

My poem, repetitive
And incomplete
May
Be published one day
And defeat
Understanding.

Words tossed away
May constitute art
In the minds of some.
I come
Back to the start.
Incomplete? Defeat? Art?

The Bright Side of Darkness – Guest Post by Jo Elizabeth Pinto

[image error]
I’ve known I was destined to write even before I learned to read. I remember cuddling with my dad on the high-backed couch in our living room, feeling safe and loved, while he read aloud a library book about Osceola. The brave Seminole Indian chief fought the brutal attempts by the U.S. government to remove his people from Florida during the early 1800’s.

When my dad finished the book, I said sadly, “It’s all gone.”

“It’s not gone,” he told me, laying the book in my hands. “We can turn it ar...

Awaking at 3 am

Awaking at 3 am
I took up my quill pen,
But being unable to think
I drank some black ink,
And swallowed that quil pen.

—

Awaking at 3 am
I took up my quill pen,
But being unable to think
I took to strong drink,
And conversed with a chicken called Glen.