K. Morris's Blog, page 480

Conservatism?

“Most Conservatives for most of the time have wished to keep things as they are and believe along with the Duke of Cambridge that the time for change is when it can no longer be resisted”.
(Lord Robert Blake, “The Conservative Party from Peel to Churchill” p271).

I was reminded of Blake’s highly readable work, when I came across this article by Ryan Bourne of the libertarian Cato Institute, https://capx.co/why-are-some-conservatives-so-obsessed-with-libertarians/.  Bourne’s piece also brought...

Eating An Orange

To fulfil
My need
To feed
I eat the orange that will
Not seed
And throw the pips away.
But stay,
Is it need
Or greed
That causes me to feed?

Bedroom

A place
Of quietude
Where few intrude.
Yet a trace
Of perfume
Has been known
To linger in the room,
On the lone
Sheet,
Where strangers rarely meet

There Was A Young Lady Called Lin

There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
I said, with a smile
“Will you stay there a while”,
But she left for my biscuit tin!

There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
Being rather witty
And extremely pretty
She led me into sin!

There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my wastepaper bin.
When I said, “are you okay?”
She replied “I like it this way”,
That strange young lady called Lin!

There was a young lady called Lin
Who lived in my w...

Some Thoughts On My Local Churchyard

To and fro
Through the churchyard I go
One day I know
That it will not be so.
Why should I care?
For I will not be there
To know.

There Was A Young Poet Called Mo

There was a young poet called Mo
Who’s work I happen to know.
His poems where so bad
That they drove me quite mad,
So I buried Mo in the snow!

The Clock

As a lover of clocks I enjoyed this poem.

Wallie's Wentletrap

The Clock (81 Words)

Were I the motion, hammer of the mind
I should by motion my free thought express—
And through the idle moments left in wind
Would meter action to a timed distress.

View original post 64 more words

Writing Blind

Earlier today, (Tuesday 26th June), I came across a fascinating podcast in which blind poets Giles L Turnbull and Dave Steele discuss sight loss, their lives and their work.

I found Turnbull’s vivid evocation of colours in the poem he read both moving and beautiful, while Steele’s composition on the subject of his hereditary eye condition, RP also touched me deeply. In the latter poem Steele hopes that his young children will avoid inheriting his RP, however, if they do so he makes it crystal...

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!?

In The Churchyard Today

In the churchyard today
Through the play
Of light and shade
I my shadow made.

When I go away
Will my shadow stay
Behind for people to see
And say
“That was he
And now midst light and shade
His shadow is forever made”.