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Great Feedback On My “Selected Poems”

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I was delighted to receive the following email earlier today:

“Dear Mr Morris,
I am writing to tell you that your poems in “The Collected Poems of K Morris” that you gave me on the train on my way to college are exceptional. You might not remember me but I am the girl doing politics and history that you met on the train and gifted your amazing book to. I have always been interested in writing poems and therefore you have really inspired me to carry on my interest and write some poems of my own. I would really like to thank you for gifting me your book and inspiring me to continue writing”.

The Selected Poems of K. Morris

“The Selected Poems of K Morris” can be found here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07WW8WXPP/ (for the UK), and here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/. (for amazon.com customers).

(Please note, I have not included the young lady’s name in order to protect her privacy).

Pantomime

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She makes no confession

Of her profession

As out of her clothes she slips.

They joke that “it’s friends with benefits”.

 

The clock ticks

And Cinderela is gone.

But no shoe is left behind

For a prince to find.

 

There is no Fairy Godmother.

Yet girls discover

A lover of a kind

In this passing pantomime

Lou Who Got Stuck in Glue

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I know a young lady named Lou

Who got stuck in a pot of glue.

When I said, “you’re a snob!”

She called me a yob!

She’s always been stuck up has Lou!

 

Secret Desires

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Dreams may express our secret desires.

Those hidden fires

From which many recoil

When awake.

Yet, some partake

And even pour oil

On their dreams.

Their fantasy burns

And  turns into reality.

Ere banality returns

And secret shame burns.

Winter Solstice

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The wall clock ticks.

We have reached the Winter Solstice.

The ache in my shoulder

Says, I grow older.

But, after tonight

The evenings will slowly turn bright

And bare trees

Bring forth leaves.

 

 

The longest day will come.

The winter solstice

Will return once more.

But the great see

Must, one day

Sweep all this away

Leaving nothing behind.

Yet we still dance

A Decadent Young Lady Named Lou

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A decadent young lady named Lou

Is coming round to mine at two.

We’ll have a lot to drink

But its not what you think!

As the bishop will be there too …!

Miss Green Who Lives in a Washing Machine

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I met a young lady named Green

Who lives in a washing machine.

We went at great speed

To fulfill that girl’s need,

And then I awoke from that dream!

 

Surface

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A shadow in the bathroom glass.

What I see

Is the public  me.

And when I pass

There will be

No me to see

Merely soulless  glass.

 

 

Yet reflected back

In the verse I leave behind

Some may find

In my rhyme

The black

And white we call art.

 

 

Now in the mirror I see

The surface me.

And not my heart.

A Man Who Calls Himself James

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A man who calls himself James

Is known by many other names.

Some call him Nevile

And others the Devil –

I’ve seen James dance in flames!

Sirens and Birds

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I heard sirens and birds

As I stood

In the darkening wood.

Later, when the sirens where gone

The birds sang on

As I passed through

The churchyard

Pondering on what is true

 

Bare

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“The trees are bare”, you said.

The sun shone

And our 2 dogs ran on

Unaware their autumn

Must come. And a gentle breeze

Blew through grasses.

 

When young lovers kiss amidst spring flowers

In their urgent need

They fail to heed

How our hours are fragile as glass.

 

 

Spring and summer pass.

We come to autumn

And the bare tree speaks of mortality.