An angel beautiful and serene
I saw as in a dream.
Pure as the freshly fallen snow
Before boots trample it low
She did seem.
‘twas An ignis fatuus
Which in the marsh does gleam.
Angelic Girl
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Category Archives: literature
Autumn Rain
A further poem in honour of Autumn. “Autumn Rain” can be found in “Dalliance: A Collection Of Poetry And Prose”, (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E or http://www.amazon.com/Dalliance-collection-poetry-prose-Morris-ebook/dp/B00QQVJC7E).
Autumn Rain
Rain you are lonely, crying outside in the darkness.
A few sad fireworks fizzle and die.
Me, sitting alone on my sofa. Rain, is it you who are lonely, or I?
Autumn Breeze
An autumn breeze
Russles ancient trees.
Scented leaves whirl
Fragrant as the girl
Who’s hair flows
As the wind blows.
bare arms reaching for the sky
Desirous to fly
With the birds
Who’s song is on this evening heard.
We Should Stand With Our Fellow Bloggers Who Are Being Threatened With Death
The Guardian reports that a militant group has published a “hitlist” of activists and bloggers. The extremist organisation has said that the named individuals (some of whom are UK citizens) should be killed due to their criticism of Islam. We should all as bloggers and believers in freedom condemn outright this barbarous threat. A number of individuals have already died simply for daring to express views which these fanatics regard as heretical.
It is easy to believe that such threats have little relevance to us as authors of fiction. However practically everything written can, if read (or mis-read) by a deranged person cause offence and lead the reader to engage in violence against the writer. Unless one confines oneself purely to writing technical manuals there exists a possibility that your words will, sooner or later cause offense. We should all be concerned and stand together with our fellow bloggers who are threatened by those who have a warped conception of Islam. (I say warped as most Muslims have no truck with fanatics).
Ploughing
I shall plough my furrow
watching others burrow.
I shall sit with unclouded brow
Observing my fellow man worry about when and how.
I shall stand aloof
While others concern themselves with the truth.
The sun shines.
My lines
run on.
The time is long since gone
For expressing anything other than amusement
Or bemusement.
Who will smile in the end
When the axe descends?
The Housemaid And The Squire (Humour)
The squire’s desire,
Sets the housemaid on fire.
Her father,
Gets in a lather.
While the carpenter Able,
Builds a cradle.
Oh young ladies, beware the dangers of waiting at table!
To A Clock In Need Of Repair
The pendulum has become detached,
The mechanism moves to fast.
Hands race around the face,
Time is out of place.
My antique clock’s eratic chime,
All is not fine.
The wooden case gleams,
But something has gone awry with the machine.
Country Places
Books in oak cases,
Country places.
Grandfather clocks tick,
The squire leans upon his stick.
A gun dog through the bracken scrambles,
After him the squire ambles.
—
Neon advertising signs,
Clubbers drunk on wine.
Half dressed girls sway on unsteady feet,
Trying to keep to the beat.
Fruit machines flash,
After knife wielding thugs the police dash.
—
In his study the squire sits,
from a glass of fine brandy he sips.
The dog his hand licks,
Elsewhere society falls to bits.
Holly
There was a young lady called Holly,
Who’s personality was rather more prickly than jolly.
She followed a handsome man’s shopping trolley,
Which led her into folly!
Cuts
Communications from those who sit on high.
Unease on winged feet does fly.
People keep their heads down,
Union reps frown.
The man nearing retirement thinks of his garden,
The poor performer hopes for a pardon.
There is money on the table,
For those who are able,
Or willing to take the redundancy shilling.
The girl in HR gazes at the darkening sky,
And heaves a sigh,
For her own job she must apply.
“There can be no reprieve,
Savings we need”!
Management consultants say,
As they take their pay.
