K. Morris's Blog, page 524

Power Failure

Last night, while visiting a neighbour, the lights failed. Indeed it soon became apparent that the electricity supply had gone down in the 2 blocks of flats which constitute the development in which I live. My immediate neighbour, and the lady who lives opposite to her, panicked a little and lamented the fact that none of us possessed torches. Fortunately the lights came back on in a matter of minutes and the power supply has remained steady since yesterday evening’s temporary blip.

The abov...

Time and tide wait for no man

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As far back as I can remember, I have had a fascination with time. The hypnotic swing of the pendulum on an old-fashioned clock and the steady tick tock of the mechanism, entrances me.

My interest in time can be seen in several of my poems, including this one which is simply entitled “Time”

“Time” can be found in “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind” http://moyhill.com/lost/.

There was a young man named Ed

There was a young man named Ed
Who told me that he was dead.
It was a terrible mishap
For such a nice chap,
So I did his pretty widow wed!

—

There was a young chef named Ed
Who told me that he was dead.
‘Twas a most terrible mishap
For such a nice chap,
And just how will I get fed!

There was a young man named Locke

There was a young man named Locke
Who did old Father Time cruely mock.
Time smiled a sad smile
And said “in a while
You will receive a rather rude shock”.

A Thunderstorm In Town, by Lucy Ribchester

Earlier this evening, I listened to “A Thunderstorm In Town”, a short story by Lucy Ribchester, which was inspired by Thomas Hardy’s poem of the same name. Ribchester’s story is an interesting and, for me unexpected take on Hardy’s poem.

You can listen to the poem (and the story) by following this link http://www.bbcmundo.com/programmes/b09pjmjj

Eyes I Can Not See

Eyes I can not see
Look back at me.
A man can be
Without sight
Yet penetrate the darkest night
If he chooses.
But oft times he loses
Courage and says “let it be
For I do not wish to see
What has become of me”.

At other times he sighs
For his inner eyes
Perceive
That within himself, which causes him to grieve.

I do not need to see your eyes
To know the lies
That hide behind
For I find
That mine
Are as thine.

Why You Should Read and Write Poetry

A good article on The Imaginative Conservative, entitled “Why You Should Read and Write Poetry”, http://www.theimaginativeconservative.org/2018/01/read-write-poetry-dwight-longenecker.html

There was a young man named Matt

There was a young man named Matt
Who owned an extremely small flat.
The place was so small
That it was really no flat at all
And he rented it to a cat!

There was a young man named Guy

There was a young man named Guy
Who owned a pet magpie.
They did most things together
In all kinds of weather
But Guy he couldn’t fly!

Shoe Size

You
Take a size 4 to five shoe.
I take a 10 to 11.
Heaven
Is an imagined place,
Although when my face
Does flush
(I blush
To say)
Heaven does not seem that far away
For me, but my shoe
Will not fit you
And we both agree
That yours are too small for me.