God’s bones.

Cold stone skin covering

A hewn wooden ribcage that

Conceals a petrified heart.

A fossilised giant wallowing in a garden

Growing nothing but death.

.

We know we will get old

But it takes you by surprise all the same.

Perhaps we refuse to see the signs –

Unexpected offers of assistance,

A sudden inability to run for the bus and

A need to take more frequent breaks.

We become fragile,

And lose confidence in our abilities.

.

Perhaps we lack courage, but

Must we resort to this?

.

Really, only the young want to live forever.

Oh, the tedium of eternity

Where angels yearn for the peace of annihilation!

We have a choice;

At the end we have a chance to be brave.

I am happy to announce a new book by poet, writer, and blogger, Kevin Morris. Something to help raise a smile, which we can all do with these days.

Kevin has sent me some sample verses.

There Once Was a Policeman Named Warner

There once was a policeman named Warner
Who raided a rather famous old sauna.
He found Miss Hocking
Without shoe or stocking.
And a politician discussing politics with Lorna…

When a Philosophical Young Lady Named Gwen

When a philosophical young lady named Gwen
Climbed to the top of Big Ben
And a policeman called Lyme
Said, “tell me the time”,
“Time has no real existence”, said Gwen!

Swansong

There was an old man named Long
Who wept as he sang his swansong.
They took off their hats
And whacked him with bats.
And so ended that swansong of long!

Here are some links to Kevin’s writing, and…