K. Morris's Blog, page 541

Seed

As a child, I planted an apple’s seed.
I watched it grow and could not hide
My pride.
Alas it was a mere weed
That I did feed.

Kero Audio Promo

[image error]I’ve owned birds, cats, chinchillas, degus, dogs, fish, gerbils, guinea pigs, hamsters, rabbits, and rats. Each one has a special place in my heart. But – though I never intended to play favourites – one little dog touched my heart in a way none of the others managed to.

His name was Kero, and he was a West Highland White Terrier.

Well, his name was actually Castellan Keroberous, but that’s quite a mouthful, so we usually just called him Kero. Since it was a mouthful even for us, I figured it...

Puppet Master

I observed an elderly puppet master, with a puppet on a string,
And my heart was sore for such a young and delicate thing.
The puppet did dance at his command
And he gripped her hand
Exceeding tight.

But out of sight
Of her master, I fancied that I saw the puppet wink
And I did think
On age and youth,
And appearance and truth

I Long For Hardback Books

I long for hardback books
And sequestered nooks
In traditional pubs with open fires.
My desires
Are simple and yet
I get
Paperbacks that fall apart
And drinking dens that lack a heart.

The Truth Of The Matter?

The unvarnished
Truth is on display
When she removes her paint, at close of day.
Alone in her room, with tarnished
Skin,
She broods on sin
And the he
Who corrupted she.

But was the man to blame?
For an answering flame
There was in her,
He would swear,
Were he there
In the lionesses’s lair.

Is Adam to blame
For Eve’s shame
If he find an answering spark
Within her heart?

Yet he lit the match
And his pleasure took when she did catch
Alight
That night
Long ago.
She did not say “No”
But what a tem...

There Was A Young Lady Named Rose

There was a young lady named Rose
Who painted all of her toes.
She wore thick socks,
Which acted as locks,
So I have never seen her toes!

—

There was a young lady named Rose
Who painted 5 of her toes.
She left the remainder unvarnished.
Her reputation got tarnished,
As to why? Nobody knows!

—

There was a young lady named Rose
Who painted her fingers and toes.
She painted them black
But she did lack
Enough to varnish her nose!

There Is A Kind Of Conservatism

There is a kind of conservatism that has little or nought to do
With politics, but which runs through
Many a man, who will say
“I like it this way
For it has always been so.
I know
That the horizon seems bright,
But there is pleasure in the scent of these roses
Here and now in this night garden.
Other posies
May brighten some dreamed of day
But here I would stay
Surrounded by these well trodden garden paths
And the laughter of friends
Who are ends in themselves.

Such a man weeps to see
The a...

The Tune of the Millenial Grave

From the Brain of Amy

The man on the moon; hums a cynical tune,
watching over demise and distress.
For his evil will spawn as the sun breaks the dawn,
in a brilliant game of chess.
His pieces are played and he sharpens his blade.
He moves with ease and finesse.
The blood that is spilled as another swallows a pill;
their souls he will caress.

For his game has begun; no one can outrun.
Watching our demise and distress.
He will guide each hand till we cannot stand,
in a brilliant game of chess....

Some Find Their Muse In Forests Green

Some find their muse in forests green
Where the nymph (so rarely seen)
Is brought to life on paper.
Many a romantic caper
Takes place on virgin page,
That pristine stage
Where maid
Is forever staid.

Other poets reach their sweating hand
Towards the lone phone,
So as to command
For a while,
A nymph’s enigmatic smile

Pancakes

Shall I compose
A poem about fingers and toes
Or write one more complex
So as to vex
My readers?

Yet who knows
For a poem about fingers and toes
May not be
What you see,
For dig down
And you may drown
In profundity,
Or not as the case may be!

I play with words
Which soar like birds
Or, like flat pancakes
Stick to ceilings
Evoking feelings of amusement
Or bemusement
But at the end of the day
One can clear the pancake away …

Some lakes
Are deep, while beneath the surface of others
We discover n...