I have just published a February author newsletter, which can be viewed here.
The newsletter contains a link to my interview on Vancouver Coop Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series, which took place on 17th December 2020. In addition, I have included two audio book recommendations, and news of my forthcoming poetry pamphlet.
If you hear a wicked rumour
About an extremely beautiful young perfumer,
By the name of Miss White,
And what we did last night.
Remember, its just a wicked rumour!
—
If you hear a wicked rumour
About an extremely beautiful young perfumer,
By the name of Miss White
And what we did last night.
Remember, she’s a beautiful young perfumer …
As I
Pass by
A tree
I hear the wind,
And ponder
On my mortality.
And wonder,
How many see
In wind and tree,
Their own mortality.
A good article entitled “The Myth of “Progressive” Thinking”, https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-myth-of-progressive-thinking
.
“Progress” is, I believe a much misused and abused word.
When a young lady said to me,
Kevin, are you fond of naked poetry?”.
I said, “my dear Heather
It is such cold weather.
So please provide lots of hot tea!”.
When a young lady named Miss Spink
Said, “sir, have you seen my kink?”.
That terrible old killjoy Clair
Said, “its in her hair”.
But Spink, she gave me a wink!
Walking through the churchyard snow
I think
On those below.
Footprints in the February snow
Soon will go.
But ink
On a page
May still engage
Though the poet is gone.
His words live on.
Else they go,
As does the February snow.
As I sat busily at my writing
With my beautiful young friend Miss Whiting,
She gave me a smile
And said, “in a while,
Let us do something far more exciting …”.
I greatly enjoyed reading this book and can recommend it.
Silently, Thadora and Fero slipped through the rapidly lightning forest until they came out on an escarpment overlooking some flatter land. The trees disappeared here, and they could see the Grosmerian plain spread before them. To the east, the hills continued to rise to meet the mountains, but to the north and west the plains began.
Tracts of forest and open countryside separated small farmsteads They could just make out the lights coming on in Roffley, a day’s journey away, as people rose to their morning tasks.
Fero held out his hand to warn Thadora to be silent. They wormed their way forward on their stomachs, and looked down from the cliff top to the plain below and found themselves about twenty feet above the plain . Below them they saw a pack of wolves.
Thadora watched the animals in fascination. They were obviously a closely-knit group, with the exception…
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I heard a bird
Flap, in winter’s air.
He will fly,
I know not where.
While I
Shall go
In Winter’s snow.
Does he know
His journey’s end?
And what of thee
And me
My friend?
K Morris - Poet 