K. Morris's Blog, page 448

Roses Entwine

Roses entwine.
Are they mine
Or thine?
The bee
Will make free
With the flower
For the lifetime of an hour.
Sting
Then, on his swift wing
Flit to an as yet, uncried
Plaything.

O see how man does sow
The seed
To feed
His need
(Although
He may not fertilise).

She does not protest but her eyes
Say
“I would prefer
That there were
Another way.
Yet
The bee will have his honey
And I my money
And when day
Is over, we may
Both regret”.

At the going down of the sun we shall remember them

One of my earliest recollections of growing up in Liverpool, is of a relative (I called him big granddad or Captain Jim), who had fought and been wounded in World War I. I remember him tapping with the walking stick, which he invariably used, on the fish tank which sat in a corner of my grandfather’s (on my Mother’s side) living room. In later life I learned that he had been (and remained until his death) a member of the Labour Party and that meetings of the local organisation had taken place...

Your chance to win a signed copy of “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems” by poet K Morris

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I am offering my readers the chance to win a signed copy of my collection of poems, “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems”, (paperback edition), https://www.amazon.com/dp/1730814883/.

The Rules:

1. Only one signed copy of “The Writer’s Pen and Other Poems” is available.
2. The first person to provide the answer to the question posed at the end of this post will receive a signed copy of my book.
3. The winner will have their prize mailed to them in December 2018.
4. Anyone (irrespective of their...

Auschwitz

The Champagne Epicurean

1

“Along the train tracks a group of Jewish boys were singing. It was magical. I hated them. How dare they let magic into this living hell? And then, I saw her. I saw the woman who would become my wife posing for a photo at the gates of Auschwitz.”

2

For most of the people walking into the gates of that cold, wind-swept institution, most of their impressions of the war and the Holocaust came from films like Schindler’s List and Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

One man,...

Who will be the UK’s next Poet Laureate

An interesting article in The Guardian regarding who will fill the role of the United Kingdom’s next Poet Laureate, when the current incumbent, Carol Ann Duffy vacates the position in 2019, https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/nov/10/wanted-one-royal-rhymester-an-interest-in-trees-and-homeopathy-an-advantage. You can find out more about the UK’s Poet Laureate by following this link, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poet_Laureate_of_the_United_Kingdom.

A Man By The Name of Spink

A man by the name of Spink
Maintains an erotic link
Where a young lady named Bess
Takes off her dress.
Or so I’m told by Spink …

I Know A Young Lady Called Suzette

I know a young lady called Suzette
Who works on the internet.
When you click on her link
She’s a girl called Spink
And sometimes she’s Yvette …

A Girl By The Name of Spink

A girl by the name of Spink
Is possessed of a particular kink.
But take great care
For I speak of her hair
And one should never insult Miss Spink!

When A Naughty Young Lady Called Lou

When a naughty young lady called Lou
Was caught stealing a single shoe
A store detective named Ted
Scratched his head
And said, “why did you not steal 2?”

Crows at Dusk

Dusk is falling.
I hear
In the autumn of my year
Crows calling
And the chatter of the magpie
As I
Ponder on days of yore.

The caw
Of this dark bird
Was no
Doubt heard
Long ago
By those who walked this self-same track.

The evening is chill
But I will
Not turn back
For melancholy is a precious part
Of the human heart,
And those who forever laugh
Do not comprehend
That every path
Must reach its end.

—

I hear children playing in a garden close to the park.
‘Tis a happy sound after the cawing...