It is a chilly day.
Should I be bold
And say
That I require? desire?
Some heat
To defeat
The cold
For today?
It Is A Chilly Day
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Category Archives: creative writing
When Me And My Friend Nell
When me and my friend Nell
Went to an exclusive hotel,
And a young lady named Rose
Said, “take off your clothes”,
I said, “Nell, is this a hotel?”
Your Hand Can Command A Fire
Your hand
Can command
A fire.
Desire burns
Ere it turns
Into pools
Where fools
Drown in sin
While the devil of lust
And dust
Looks on with a woolfish grin.
On this Windy Day
On this windy day
In April
I can not say
Whether the flowers I pass
On this woodland path
Will stay
For another day.
I think
That they
Are the same as those
I saw before,
Although I can not say
For sure
Whether it be so.
I suppose
That both I and they
Will see the rain’s tears
In future years,
But this I can not say
For sure.
Geranium
On Good Friday I gave to you
A geranium in a pot.
We agreed on the need for air.
I know not
Whether you are showing care
To that token
Which, although unspoken
You knew to be true.
And now you have your air
And I mine.
I remember you
On my sofa blue.
No line
Was crossed.
The cost
Was a cheap
Priceless geranium in a pot
You may or may not, keep.
There Was A Young Man Named Heart
There was a young man named Heart
Who knew nothing at all about art.
When he stole a painting
It led to no fainting,
As it really wasn’t art!
Red Lights
Red lights
Bring delight
For a moment,
On a street.
High-heeled feet.
Men are lost
In arms
They can not own,
Then, alone
Return home.
(This poem was inspired by Lorraine’s “Red Lights”, https://blindwilderness.wordpress.com/2019/04/25/red-lights/).
The British Library Explores The History Of Writing
From tomorrow (Friday 26 April), the British Library will be hosting an exhibition concerning the history of writing. The exhibits include an ancient egyptian tablet which demonstrates that concerns about the quality of homework are far from being new! It also shows that worries regarding the decline in hand-writing are not confined to the 21st century. For more information please visit, https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/apr/24/living-by-the-pen-british-library-explores-history-of-writing.
Kevin
I Met A Young Lady Named Rose
I met a young lady named Rose
Who last night stole all of my clothes.
I was composing a rhyme to my love
When, great heavens above,
Rose she stole all of my clothes!
Regret
I,
know that ’tis easy, when alone
To pick up the telephone,
Or to click on the internet,
And buy,
Regret.
K Morris - Poet 