K. Morris's Blog, page 635
November 16, 2016
Inner Peace
Sitting here
My mind is almost clear
Of old junk.
For now the detritus has slunk
Away to hide
Inside
The maze of my calculating brain.
The stain
Of a thing overthought
Frequently leaves me overrought.
This room is still and full of peace
So why can not my mind for long cease
In it’s whirring motion?
Must I forever be tossed upon this restless ocean?
I long for a lack of motion.
Yet there is no magic potion
To achieve a quiet soul,
A goal
Pursued by men of every nation
And station.
Though ‘t...
November 15, 2016
Making Hay
The young man makes hay
And little heed does pay
To the odd grey
Hair.
With desire he does stare
At maidens fair
While the hay turns bad
And the lustful lad,
With expression sad
Sees that the grey
Has chased the brown away.
The man strays still
But the rill
Of joy is almost dry.
Try
As he might
To lose himself in sensual delight
Man does hear
With fear
Night’s footsteps, creeping near.
Conquering the Reaper
A researcher has launched a project to make simulations of the dead a reality. In future, he postulates you could be having breakfast with your spouse then leave for work. However you would not, in fact be eating with your partner but rather a simulation of the dear departed. This, the researcher hopes will enable those left behind to cope better with grief. Ultimately, as the technology improves the line between the living and the dead will become increasingly indistinct.
The article does to...
November 14, 2016
Evening Walk
Strolling through Bushy park.
In the Autumn dark.
Hark,
The sound of a deer
Very near
Warning my dog to steer clear.
Other animals peacefully feed.
My dog, on the lead
Can not read
The disquiet of the first one
And trots excitedly on
With my friend and I,
Perhaps wondering why
He can not play
With this unfamiliar prey.
Reaching Hampton Court, we wander about this historic place.
Commerce’s face
Does not despoil the grace
Of the palace by night.
I think of Henry the eighth
When no man was safe...
I met a Maid
I met a maid.
Staid
And proper was she,
Who said unto me,
“I love thee.
Let us make free,
But not too much so
For a girl must go
To the marketplace,
Where she will embrace
The latest fashion,
For it is her passion
To please her man.
Therefore can
You take care of me
And you will see
Just how much I love thee …!”
I said, “Oh maid,
Most staid
And proper.
I thank you for your generous offer,
But I regret my coffer
Can not maintain a professional shopper.
Be not sad
For you may find some other la...
November 13, 2016
Share your blog!
A generous offer to share one of your posts. Kevin
First of all If you reblog this post you help me, I help you and you help your readers, so everyone wins.. There are thousands of good blogs out there and think of all of that we are missing just b…
To share a link please visit the original post
Double Dutch
I sense but can not touch
And to write it down would be double dutch.
These trees,
These fallen leaves,
This breeze
All speak wordless words
By me only half-heard.
Often have I tried to grasp that which I can not hold,
A thing more precious than any gold.
It is a story told
from ancient time
Which can not be captured in this poor rhyme.
Dark and Light
The autumn sun
shines upon my wall.
Soon day will be done.
Night must fall,
As sadness frequently follows delight.
Mourn not, for there can be no dark without the light.
November 12, 2016
‘Albatross’ – Extract 10
An extract from my friend Jeff’s novel Albatross
Here is the tenthextract from my book ‘Albatross – the scent of honeysuckle’, published on Amazon –
Just two comments from readers –
This is a novel that deserves to be read in an unhurried way in order for the reader to assimilate the full complexities and challenges of Barney’s obsessive...Smorgasbord Short Story – A Soldier Waits – Sally Cronin
Smorgasbord - Variety is the spice of life
A Soldier Waits – Sally Cronin
David stood beside his comrades as they waited in the village square for the parade to begin. Despite their advancing years, the men stood as tall as possible, often with the aid of a stick. Two of their number were in wheelchairs, and had been guided across the cobble stones by their fellow old soldiers.
It was a typical chilly November morning with dark skies and clouds laden with imminent rain. Whilst inappropriate...
