K. Morris's Blog, page 641
October 24, 2016
2nd Halloween Poem Contest – Third group of submitted poems
Thank you to Aurora, of Writer’s Treasure Chest for the opportunity to enter the second Halloween competition. Kevin
Picture courtesy of: http://preventioncdnndg.org/eco-quartier/eco-tips-for-halloween/
Your Animal Side by Angela Kay
I hear everyone has an animal side.
What is yours?
What is mine?
No one can really know for sure.
Could it be repulsive in the dark, silent night?
Save me from this frightening thought.
I saw a creature enter my room last night.
Coul...
If I Where A Rentier
If I where a rentier living off capital
(The very idea is laughable)!
I would retire to the moors
(with other bores)
And shoot peasants
Yes, I think that would be pleasant …!
I would terrorise the local wenches
And build high fences
To keep at bay
Those intent on stealing my wealth away.
Huge parties I would throw
And my reputation for debauchery would grow.
The vicar would prey
Lest I give his secret away
While the bishop’s innocent daughter
Would, like a lamb to the slaughter …
But I am...
October 23, 2016
Autumn Ruminations
The scent of leaves
Temporarily relieves
My introspection.
There can be no excuse
For dejection
When Autumn is here to seduce
Me with her heady scent.
I repent
Of fruitless hours spent
Over keyboards
While the squirrel hoards
Nuts in the nearby park
And the clear, sharp bark
Of a fox
Says “a pox
On your writing.
You ought in the outdoors to be delighting.
Take a walk in yonder wood
For the air
There is good
And Autumn fair
Is warmed by a gentle sun.
Soon winter will come.
Have done
With melan...
There Was A Young Man Called Matt
There was a young man called Matt
Who owned a very large cat.
One cold day
I regret to say
He wore it instead of a hat …!
October 22, 2016
Sue me and I’ll have you killed!
…slowly, he inched his way along the ledge, his heart in his mouth. It was too late to even contemplate turning back now. The sun was sinking rapidly in the pale sky in front of him, dropping towards the distant plains that were almost hidden in the deserthaze. It would be completely dark within the hour. For the first time, he knew real fear. He could never survive a night on this thin, narrow ledge – God knows, there was barely enough room to stand and almost nothing to hold o...
Behind
Being blind
Sometimes I find
Myself wondering, as heels pass
“Who is that lass?
Is she young or old?
Bold
Or shy
And what colour are her eyes?”
On occasions perfume, as of a flower
Does overpower
My senses, and I construct castles in the air
Wherein I while away many an hour
Thinking on the tender flower
Where other bees than me
Make free.
How the senses can deceive.
The girl I perceive
As being in the flush of youth
Is, in truth
(I blush) To admit it, sometimes a lady of mature years
Who h...
Requiescat by Matthew Arnold
Strew on her roses, roses,
And never a spray of yew!
In quiet she reposes;
Ah, would that I did too!
Her mirth the world required;
She bathed it in smiles of glee.
But her heart was tired, tired,
And now they let her be.
Her life was turning, turning,
In mazes of heat and sound.
But for peace her soul was yearning,
And now peace laps her round.
Her cabin’d, ample spirit,
It flutter’d and fail’d for breath.
To-night it doth inherit
The vasty hall of death.
Why Do I Care?
Why do I care
When you call me “sir”?
I say “call me by my name”
But, again and again
You draw that distinction between you and I.
“Tell me my friend, why?”
I am no Communist red
With idealism pervading my head.
But as one human to another
I tell you my friend, “you are my brother”.
So I guess that is why I care
When you call me “sir”.
October 21, 2016
There Was a Young God Called Mars
There was a young god called Mars
Who picked a fight in all the bars.
He grew rather pale
When they threw him in jail
As he didn’t like the bars …!
October 20, 2016
Ere We Die
On seeing the stormy sky
The poet thinks “man must die”.
He sees the young girl bloom
And says “she is destined for the tomb”.
Oh let us gather wild flowers
And not waste our powers
Trapped in ivory towers.
Beware the scholar’s domed head
For we are soon dead.
May our spirit fly
Ere we die
And are lost in endless sky.
