There was a young poet called Keith
Who’s works where extremely brief.
Each poem consisted of only one word ,
(which was rather absurd),
And he lived in a place called Dalkeith.
There Was A Young Poet Called Keith
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Author Archives: K Morris Poet
Stillettos
Stillettos
Impure
Alure.
Passion’s
Empty
Core
A Summary and Analysis of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s ‘The Speckled Band’
A reading of a classic Sherlock Holmes story
‘The Adventure of the Speckled Band’ is one of the most popular Sherlock Holmes story written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Doyle himself recognised that many readers would include ‘The Speckled Band’ among their list of favourite Holmes outings. It’s easy to read Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories and enjoy them, with no additional analysis deemed necessary. But closer inspection reveals its links to previous detective fiction and the reasons for its status as one of the finest of Doyle’s short stories.
‘The Speckled Band’, in summary, focuses on the case of Helen Stoner, a woman of thirty who lives with her bullying and domineering stepfather, Sir Grimesby Roylott, at Stoke Moran. She is nervous and fearful when she comes to Baker Street to consult Sherlock Holmes, and tells him her back-story. In India, Roylott had married Ms Stoner’s mother…
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The Horse Race
Should I to the bookies go, and put cash
On this prospect rash?
I doubt the horse can win the race (though the crowd
In his support are loud
And grope
For hope
In empty pools
Where fools
Drown).
Do I want him to win?
I grin
And keep my own counsel, for the wise
Do not prate
Or rise
To the bait.
They cultivate
A zen-like state
And patiently wait …
Author Spotlight; Lucy Brazier
Lucy Brazier is the author of PorterGirl: First Lady Of The Keys, a zany trip through mayhem and chaos as Old College suffers it’s first ever female Deputy Head Porter.
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Sleep
Waking early,
And being unable to return to the land of slumber,
Idly I wonder
About our need for sleep,
For we can not pretend
That he will not take us all in the end.
Echo
In the rocks, Echo does reside.
We take pride
In her speech
For she doth preach
As we do.
Through
Her voice
We know the only possible choice
For it is that of our brothers
(Echo’s lovers),
Who
Understand the one true
Way,
For they
Echo every word we say
Narcissus
While gazing in the glass
She heard a mocking laugh.
On looking behind
She did find
Narcissus lounging on the bed.
“What, you here? again!” she said
Baubles and Toys
Soon baubles and toys
Will intrude, while the day’s noise
Will wrap me in petty care
Yet, on awakening there
Where
The birds, as they always are
Drowning out lorry and car.
Guest author: Kevin Morris – Death and the Poet
My thanks to Sue Vincent for her kindness in publishing my guest post.
It is frequently remarked that “the only things certain in life are death and taxes”. While this old adage contains much truth, one may, perhaps rephrase it to read thus, “the only thing certain in life is that poets will write about death”.
One of the finest poems concerning mortality is, in my opinion Ernest Dowson’s “Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam”:
“They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
*
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream”.
Life’s pleasures are brief (as is Dowson’s poem). Wine and roses (the pleasures of food and love) pass and our existence ends “as in a dream”. (https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/vitae-summa-brevis-spem-nos-vetat-incohare-longam).
In…
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