K. Morris's Blog, page 525

As I walk through the churchyard

As I walk through the churchyard,
Along this hard
Path,
I laugh
For although
The day Is cold, those below
Do not know
That it is so

The Utopian Waits For A Bright Dawn

The utopian waits for a bright dawn
To break,
While dystopians warn
Of a grey
Morn,
And we awake
To the same old day

There was a young lady named Louise

There was a young lady named Louise
Who swallowed a hive of honey bees.
They stung her real bad
But she wasn’t at all sad
As at least they made her sneeze!

There was a young man named Frank

There was a young man named Frank
Who worked in a very old bank.
He stole lots of money
To give to his honey
And his cell was cold and dank.

The Lady Charlotte

It is said that the magpie
Steals shiny trinkets. I
Am left pondering on why
At a single shot from Cupid’s bow
Some men go
Quite mad and embrace
The silk and lace
Of the lady Charlotte
Who, in her scarlet
Dress
Has led the fool and the sage
(In every age)
To confess.
Ere they return again,
To their pain
And Charlotte’s gain.

There was a young lady named Bess

There was a young lady named Bess
Who decided her sins to confess.
I advised her not to do so
As it would end in woe
And I kept her little black dress …

Rain

“Rain” was written some 4 years ago and does not currently appear in any of my books. Below is a recording of me reading the poem,

The Coy Nymph

I met a nymph in a wood
Who was both fair
And good.
I said to her
“I wonder could …?”

In a manner most coy
She replied “my dear boy
The weather is hot
And I really should
Not …”.

Flame

I came
To your flame
And full of desire
Extinguished your fire.

You wher hot
And needed me not,
But being a little bad
You took what I had.

My desire
Will expire
Leaving a broken candle
For another to handle.
But tonight
I delight
In the flame
I shall not name

#Bookreview – My Vibrating Vertebrae and other poems by Agnes Mae Graham

Robbie's inspiration

What Amazon says

We all have dreams, loves and hopes; but what if you are a girl growing up in 20th century Northern Ireland before, during and after the ‘Troubles’?
From the poetic thoughts of our Mother, we get a sense of what it was like, ranging from humour, sadness, wistful thinking and sometimes just downright nonsensical, these are the words of one such girl.

My review

I have always loved to read poetry and I do favour well written rhyming poetry as I enjoy the w...