Category Archives: creative writing

Photograph

I was deeply moved when, on entering my local pub yesterday (Saturday 17th October), I found that the pub had, on prominent display a photograph of my former guide dog Trigger.

Distance shot of Trigger’s photo

Distance shot of Trigger’s photo

I have long since lost count of the number of occasions on which Trigger and I would visit the pub. Whilst I enjoyed chatting to friends over a pint (or more)! of beer Trigger would enjoy being stroked, or vacuuming up the crisps or nuts which he so adeptly managed to find on the carpet! He was a typical lab/retriever (but possessed of his own unique lovable personality), and is still sadly missed by me, and so many other people who knew him.

The below poem, “Early Morning Walk”, was written shortly after having walked Trigger in woods close to my home. Dogs live in the moment. They do not become obsessed with useless thought as do we humans, and we have so much to learn from them.

My dog snuffles
and scuffles
amongst the leaves.
He is just there
With no care
For what I think
As I drink
In the fresh morning air.

Should you happen to be in the Crystal Palace/Gipsy Hill area, and fancy a pint in convivial surroundings, you can find the Railway Bell (and Trigger’s photograph) here, https://www.rampubcompany.co.uk/visit-pubs/railway-bell.

The Railway Pub

My thanks to my friend Jeff for taking the photograph, and my friend Henry for printing it.

Close-up of Trigger’s photo

Close-up of Trigger’s photo

My thanks also to Danielle of The Railway Bell for her kindness in having the photograph framed and arranging for it to be displayed in the pub.

Bishop Higgle

“What is sin?”,I asked Bishop Higgle.
And, as I did, a girl’s giggle
Came from his bedchamber.
And blonde Miss Granger
Did, so sweetly say,
“When the cat’s away
The mice will play!”.

Miss Alice

I know a young lady named Miss Alice
Who lives close to the great Crystal Palace.
She is often very bad
Which makes the priest sad.
And I’m off just now to see Alice.

There Once Was A Man Named Lyme

There once was a man named Lyme
Who, determined to conquer Old Father Time,
Covered up all the clocks
With his girlfriend’s new frocks.
And Old Father Time laughed at Lyme.

A Young Woman Wearing Bright Pink High-Heels

A young woman wearing bright pink high-heels
Went in to swim with the seals.
Being drunk on strong booze
She lost both her shoes.
Or so I’m told by those seals!

When A Beautiful But Dissolute Young Lady Named Ria

When a beautiful but dissolute young lady named Ria
Came round to mine and drank lots of beer,
A kindly old monk
Said, “you are drunk.
Let me help you to bed, young Miss Ria”.

A Poem from “Dalliance”

The mirror sees it all

The writings on the wall

To the girl he calls

She turns to him and falls

Gazing in the glass

She sees the truth at last

Hides it with a laugh

Would that she could break the glass.

“Mirror” can be found in my collection of poetry and prose “Dalliance”, which can be accessed here, https://www.amazon.com/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E/

Practiced Feet

Practiced feet
Upon his stair.
Repeat, repeat,
She wasn’t there.

How many feet ascend
His stair?
Pretend, pretend
They where not there.

‘Tis easy to count
The number of stairs.
But he’s long since lost count
Of the Flairs and the Claires.

When A Young Lady Dressed In Clear Plastic

When a young lady dressed in clear plastic
Said, “my morals they are really very elastic”.
I said, “its true
That mine stretch too.
And you are hot in that clear plastic!”.