Shall I, like the Lady of Shalot
Look beyond this mirrored spot,
And turn and see
What lover or demon pursues me?
I think I know.
But should I go
And see
What lover or demon pursues me?
She is neither goblin nor elf
Nor Satan in nymph’s guise.
‘Tis no surprise to see,
It is my own self
That pursues me.
The traffick noise momentarily fades.
No words,
Just the singing of birds
And a yearning for woodland glades
I would like to wish all my followers/readers a very happy Easter. Whatever Easter means to you, have a wonderful Easter break.
Kevin
The egg breaks
And man takes
His place on this earth.
Be he mighty and proud
Or lost in the crowd,
It is death and rebirth.
He will return to the turf.
The tree from the grave grows
And who knows
Which came first, the egg or the bird
There was a young man from Calcutta
Who found a pound in the gutter.
A dog had been there,
Which caused him to swear,
That unfortunate young man from Calcutta!
No rain can quell
This burning
Hell.
Angels falling from the sky,
Calling to you and I,
Cry
Crocodile tears
For wasted years.
Then, half-heartedly die.
Why pretend
As we descend,
That you do not recognise
In those dead eyes
The mirror image of you and I?
College girls whirl,
unthurl.
Blossoms borne on a spring breeze
Tease
And please
Young men
Who, forgetting book and pen
Turn
And learn
Full well
What no dull
Text can tell.
“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators
Of the world” Shelley said.
But all praters
Must go to that night
Where none write,
For what use are words to the dead?
There was a young lady called Ruth
Who said “there is no proof.
But you may find,
If you look behind,
Something approaching the truth!
It will not do
To force one’s foot into an ill fitting shoe.
Likewise it is a mistake
To make
Poems rhyme
Where no rhyme properly should be.
K Morris - Poet 