K. Morris's Blog, page 581

Tennis

She plays
And the last rays
Of the setting sun
Catch her hand
That can command
An ocean.
A final motion
Of her wrist
And their game is done.

Muddy

newauthoronline

Thoughts muddy
I will forsake
And take
Refuge in my study,
Among poets who speak
Words that endure beyond a week.

I shall sit listening to birdsong.
The long
Summer days willimperceptibly turn
Into Autumn. I shall the world spurn
And yearn
For Keat’s Nightingale.

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Scythes

Harken
As gardeners their scythes
Sharpen
And see, how the skies
Darken.

There Was A Young Poet Called Leigh

There was a young poet called Leigh
Who wrote using free verse.
Sometimes she would find
That not using rhyme
Was a bit of a bind,
So wrote using verse that was free!

Your chance to win a signed (print) copy of poet Kevin Morris’s forthcoming collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”

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I am offering the opportunity to win a signed (print) copy of my forthcoming collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems”, which will be published, by Moyhill Publishing later this month. In order to enter please answer the following question:

What is the name of the famous English balad from which the following lines are taken

“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight o...

Seduction

Please do visit the original post and like/comment there. Kevin

Victoria Lugovskaya

(After reading the biography of Lord Byron)

I don’t like ceremonies, madam:
They steal my precious time.
All men are rough since days of Adam,
And women are sublime.

I sense in you unuttered passion
That waits, like sparkling wine.
In most frank and honest fashion
I dare you: be mine.

I will be ardent, I will care,
I’ll make your life complete.
And then I’ll finish the affair,
Just as I started it.

You’ll cal...

Limericks 2

There are some great limericks here!

Rhyme

Every two weeks – a set of limericks.

There once was an old man of Esser,
Whose knowledge grew lesser and lesser.
It at last grew so small,
He knew nothing at all.
And now he’s a college professor.

‘Tis a favorite project of mine:
A new value of pi to assign.
I would fix it at 3,
For it’s simpler, you see,
Than 3 point 1 4 1 5 9.

God’s plan made a hopeful beginning,
But man spoiled his chances by sinning.
We trust that the story
Will end in God’s glo...

Autumnal

The sound of a blackbird
By me heard
As I savour Autumn’s scent,
After a day spent
In old London Town.
A myriad of leaves have fallen down
Today
(and trees too they say),
But it is all to soon
For ‘Tis only June …

—

(Note: This poem was prompted by my walk home from work, on 6 June. The evening felt Autumnal, despite it being early June).

Kevin Morris’s poem “Feather” published on Rhyme

Many thanks to Victoria for publishing my poem, “Feather” on her excellent site, Rhyme. To read my poem please visit, https://rhymepoetry.wordpress.com/2017/06/07/feather/.

I Dreamed

I dreamed
And in my dream it seemed
To me that I did look
Upon my book.
It’s back
Did my photograph lack
And what had been
Could no longer be seen.