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.
The Wind in the Tree
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Category Archives: books
The Myth of Progress
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.
Naked Poetry
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!”.
Miss Spink’s Kink
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!
February Snow
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
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 …”.
Winter Bird
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?
Whilst Hiding in a Large Metal Bin
Whilst hiding in a large metal bin
I met a young lady named Lin.
She dressed in clear plastic
And had morals most elastic.
But I didn’t give in to sin!
—
Whilst hiding in a rather large metal bin
With a most sinful young lady named Lin,
A kindly constable called Ted
Said, “please go to bed.
You’d be more comfortable than in this bin!”.
In Lockdown
In lockdown, poets rhyme,
While a girl’s smile
And her precious time,
Are bought online.
After the wine,
And giggles and wriggles.
Men are left, bereft.
And poets rhyme.
A Eliot Poem
A Eliot poem
Mingled with birds,
Made me lose,
All my words.
K Morris - Poet 