K. Morris's Blog, page 715
October 27, 2015
The Autumn Of My Years
Now that I have reached the Autumn of my years
and the grey has chased the brown away
shall I forget the undiscovered rose
whose perfume
hangs in the air
on a spring night
replete withpure delight?
Should I wear sensible shoes
And lose
The joy of walking
Barefoot on grass?
Shall I seek the fairies dancing
Or insist
They do not exist?
I must persist
In my search for bliss
For to be alive
Is to strive
for something more
Than to achieve the title “saloon bar bore”.
I am not a bee in a hive
A mer...
October 25, 2015
W. H. Auden Says It Best!
I enjoy much of Auden’s poetry. Among my favourites are “The Shield Of Achilles” and “O Where Are You Going?”. Kevin
Originally posted on First Night Design:
FROM THE ARCHIVE 15th January 2013
Portrait of W.H. Auden (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I was rather amused the other day to read this quote by the poet W.H. Auden:
“We are here on earth to do good unto others. What the othersare here for, I have no idea.”
Auden’s poetry certainly does me good. However, if I never he...
The Grain
When man catches the wild wind
And a screen protects us from the rain.
When all flowers’s scent is sweet but, somehow the same.
When all rough edges are smoothed away
And the grain of the wood is lost
A few men may, perchance, count the cost.
Warbling
Listening to commercial radio
The warblers come and go.
Photogenic girls fill my brain
With the same
Or similar sound.
Autumn leaves strew the ground.
I reach for the off switch.
Oh what bliss!
In the garden a bird calls.
Leaves whirl and fall
And the warbling is lost, beyond recall.
Autumn
As I walked through the trees
a soft breeze
Stirred the fallen leaves.
A girl was there
with golden hair.
Light as a feather she flew
into mine arms true.
The scent of the forest she wore.
Her clothes blended with the woodland’s russet floor.
“I can not stay
for my father, winter is on his way”,
she did say.
The sky turned grey
and winter did bay
As a ravenous wolf
who would the earth engulf.
I felt her father’s icey hand
laid firm upon the land.
His command
is law.
I must see his daughter no...
Puppets R US
Originally posted on For The Soul:
For their amusement
I now dance to a tune that I once thought was simply music
It’s rhythm…
I found intriguing,
I liked the way my shoulders swayed to the dance I once called forbidden
It had a pull from which I could not be restrained
Not that I tried, it was willingly that I went
But not willingly that I stayed
Like a siren, it called me and with its beauty I was entranced
Once upon the place of its origin
I found them tired, their feet bloodied but their...
Ruth
The young man preens
And dreams
Of girls in frocks
Who lose their socks
The young girl thinks of fast cars
of fumbling hands
And broken bras.
The middle aged man ponders on his misspent youth
On wonky car seats
and a girl called Ruth.
The middle aged lady takes her husband’s hand
As they stroll contentedly along the sand.
October 24, 2015
I May WalkWalk From TalkTalk
As a blogger I rely on the internet. I don’t think about it often. Rather like the driver who knows very little about cars I just get into the driving seat and drive. As with the driver in the above example, I know little about how the engine (internet) works but I trust that the manufacturer (my Internet Service Provider or ISP) will get me safely, from A to B without incident. Unfortunately as with vehicles, so with the internet, things can (and do) go wrong. In this case spectacularly so –...
Snow
A lack of musak.
No ghost, for spirits are immaterial as the wind
and here is a material world.
Aisles empty as the minds of the robots who patrol
for security has no soul.
Automated tills say
“have a nice day”
in a voice as caring
as the check out girl who is inwardly swearing
at her bloke,
“the guys a f..k joke”!
“Big Issue?”
the girl outside the store asks.
it’s a hopeless task
For the issue has been lost
and tossed
with the needles and dodgy cash
into the trash
Long ago.
Clubbers admire t...
October 23, 2015
The Old Familiar Faces By Charles Lamb
It is sometimes remarked by those who do not care for poetry that it is difficult to understand. However this certainly can not be said of the below poem, “The Old Familiar Faces” by the poet, Charles Lamb.
—
The Old Familiar Faces By Chaarles Lamb
I have had playmates, I have had companions,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days,
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies,
All, all...
