“We walk through dust.
Her stilettoed feet
Click on the street.
Circumstance does thrust
Birds of diverse feather
Together for pleasure.
While money may impress,
Whirling dust
Will take
The flesh
Of paramore, and rake”.
I thought I had lost
The key to my clock.
When I found it again
It’s old tick tock
Continued on. but time
He pauses not.
(The above poem first appeared in my June Author Newsletter, which can be accessed here https://mailchi.mp/37a9976abe1c/kevins-june-author-newsletter).
On Sunday 1 August, I took down my copy of A E Housman’s A Shropshire Lad. Whilst I am an admirer of Housman’s work, as with all poets and authors, certain of his writings resonate with me more so than do others. One such poem is “When I Watch the Living Meet”, which appears in A Shropshire Lad and is reproduced below. For more about Alfred Edward Housman please visit https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/a-e-housman. For the free ebook of A Shropshire Lad please see https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5720.
When I watch the living meet,
And the moving pageant file
Warm and breathing through the street
Where I lodge a little while,
If the heats of hate and lust
In the house of flesh are strong,
Let me mind the house of dust
Where my sojourn shall be long.
In the nation that is not
Nothing stands that stood before;
There revenges are forgot,
And the hater hates no more;
Lovers lying two and two
Ask not whom they sleep beside,
And the bridegroom all night through
Never turns him to the bride.
While visiting my most favourite old uncle Flow
I said, “uncle, do you happen to know
Why you have a girl’s name?”.
He replied, “my dear nephew Jane,
My real name is Louisa, as you know!”.
She is discreet
When we meet.
Her bare legs touch mine.
And behind
All the kisses and wine
I find
Old Father Time.
When a waiter by the name of Kipp
Said, “sir, do remember to give a tip!”.
I said, “I’m reliably told
That a horse called Gold
Is a certainty at Newmarket this afternoon Kipp!”
Awaking in a pool full of seals
I saw a young lady in heels.
When I said, “am I drunk!”,
She replied, “as a holy monk,
You should avoid pools full of seals!”
Whilst walking through thunder and heavy rain
I met a young lady named Jane
Who said, “oh kindly fella
Do lend me your umbrella!”.
That Jane she must be perfectly insane!
She lost her dress
After food and wine.
She had to confess
That the line
Between an ordinary
And an extraordinary
Date, was …
All kinds of paid
Arrangements are made.
She was
Down on her luck.
And a lonely man
Can easily book
A discreet meet.
A short rhyme
Of eternal rain
By a poet
Who spent time
In an ancient wood
On a summer’s day.
K Morris - Poet 