In a half dream
Words grow
Then go
On my changing screen.
Oh! sweet sleep
Make me free
Of poetry!
But no, for poetry
Is me.
Writing
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Category Archives: musings
As Halloween Approaches
As Halloween approaches
The vampire broaches
The possibility of me
Coming round for tea.
She says, “its good
To eat black pudd.
But I never will partake
Of any kind of steak!”.
I reply, “my dear Lou
I shall use garlic shampoo
When I visit this Halloween.
Lou! Why do you scream!”.
Birds
An intense sense
Of my mortality
Comes to me
When I hear
The sweet clear
Song of birds.
Oft when caught
In useless thought
Or in empty words,
I hear the birds.
I see beauty.
And am free
As I Grow Older
As I grow older
A girl’s bare shoulder
And her sweet perfume
Still attracts. Distracts me.
But, when I hear
Her call me “Sir”,
Morning becomes late afternoon,
As night draws near.
Miss Prism
There once was a girl named Prism
Who wrote a big book on Conservatism.
A young lady named Lou
Spanked men with her shoe.
But that’s nothing to do with Conservatism!
There Was a Young Lady Named Sky
There was a young lady named Sky
Who said, “kiss me or I’ll die!”.
Her philosopher boyfriend Paul
Said, “all men fall.
And we all must one day die!”.
Visit
She kept her heels on.
Then was gone.
Her scent lingered on fingers.
While she smiled
At an envelope
With no name
I See the Stopped Clock
I see the stopped clock
And feel the autumn chill.
This hot tea
Will
Warm me.
But all clocks
Stop
In the end,
My friend
Former Poet Laureate Andrew Motion Discusses the Poetry of Philip Larkin
A couple of days ago, I watched this video on Philip Larkin which I highly recommend.
In the video Andrew Motion, the UK’s former Poet Laureate (who was a close friend and biographer of Larkin) discusses the poet’s life and work.
I am a fan of Larkin’s poetry, particularly his poems Aubade
and Ambulances
Walking Through the Churchyard, in the Autumn Dark
Walking through the churchyard,
In the autumn dark
I missed your cry.
But you wait, somewhere
For those who dare,
(And those who dare not)
Think on the graveyard plot.
K Morris - Poet 