K. Morris's Blog, page 79

Earth

These autumn leaves

Remind me

Of my mortality.

 

 

Winter’s knife

Chops down life.

And trees

In spring bring

Forth leaves

 

 

And I recall

We all

Are of earth

And turf.

She says, “Soon I Will Stop This”

She says, “soon I will stop this”.

“Why do I engage

With a girl only half my age?.

Must I forever kiss

Lips which yearn to turn from me?

 

 

I am no devil

And perhaps at a certain level

She likes me.

 

 

In her deep sleep I see

Her in her vulnerability

And find the tenderness in me.

 

There is no true bliss

In her reluctant kiss.

But gold may hold sway

Tomorrow as with today.”

 

The Importance of Humour

A young lady who works as a perfumer

Said, “you have absolutely no sense of humour!”.

As I stamped on her toes

I said, “my dear Miss Rose,

Don’t you wish you had met me sooner!”.

 

A Recording of More Poetic Meanderings

I am pleased to announce that a complete recording of ‘More Poetic Meanderings’ is now available, read by me. The recording is split into four parts. To listen to my most recent uploads, please visit here for Part 3 and here for Part 4.

Part 1 can be found here whilst Part 2 can be found here.

More Poetic Meanderings is also available in Paperback and Kindle on Amazon.

 

A Girl’s Lost Clothes

A young lady wearing only her bra

Came to drink in my favourite bar.

She said her heels

Got stolen by seals

And her dress was in my car!

There Once Was an Old Man Named Hogg

There once was an old man named Hogg

Who said, “I’ve been flogged by a dog!”.

They said to him, “sir,

You should take more care!

And you really should stay off that grog!”.

 

Getting the Blame

When a young lady whose known as Nat

Went and left her perfume in my flat,

My sweet girlfriend Leigh

Began to berate me!

But it wasn’t me, it was that Nat!

Old

In my frayed old dressing gown I found

A broken hairband.

I know not where

I met her.

 

 

Names I forget.

But this broken hairband commands reflection and regret

For her and all those before.

And others, if there are more

I Could Stop

I could stop

This clock

Once and for all.

 

 

Lonely and bored

I called

On Dowson’s rhyme

Of women and wine.

 

 

The cork popped

You poured.

And Time’s scythe chopped

Another day away

In play.

A Warm Bed for the Night

A warm bed for the night

Gives some respite

From the indifferent street, where feet

Sound on lonely stone.

She sleeps in sheets.

Her brief respite

After his delight.