I collected a conker
A few weeks back.
I have it still.
But will
Forever, lack
You who
Collected it with me.
I Collected A Conker
2 Replies
Category Archives: musings
Dog Shadows
I awoke,
With a start
To a bark.
But you spoke
Not. And now I pass
Your shadow, on the grass.
A Poet’s Thoughts
Young women lead men astray.
But I find writing
So much more inviting
Yet, on a hot day
A poet’s thoughts may
Turn (’tis most perverse,
To something other than verse …
When A Young Man Along With His Spouse
When a young man along with his spouse
Said, “I’ve come to shoot all your grouse,
In this fine old dining room ,
By the light of the moon.
I kicked them both out of my house!
I Heard Leaves Fall
I heard
Leaves fall.
Then, a solitary bird
Did call,
As I stood
In Autumn’s wood.
And I did comprehend,
Beauty, and a friend.
Forbidden Pleasures
Dark horses.
Overstretched police forces.
Unenforceable measures.
Household’s secret pleasures.
Criminals run amok.
Police on doors knock
(Probably not),
To enforce
What,
Of course
Can not
Be enforced.
To A Departed Dog (Dedicated To Trigger)
Sometimes I see
You in front of me,
Or imagine you at
My side. I
Go to pat
You under the table,
Where you so often sat.
I am not able.
You are not coming back.
My Poem “England On The Eve Of World War I” included in “World Poetry Peaceathon Anthology”
I am delighted to announce that my poem “England On The Eve of World War I”, has been included in “WORLD POETRY PEACEATHON : WORLD POETRY ANTHOLOGY”. Many thanks to Ariadne Sawyer and all those involved in Vancouver Co-Op Radio’s The World Poetry Reading Series.
To read a sample, or to purchase the book, please visit this link, https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08FZWKY94.
In A Dream She Undresses
In a dream she undresses.
Gives absent caresses.
There is no right or wrong,
Just the most ancient of song.
And man’s fear of dust,
Unsatiated by lust.
Pick Your Fights Wisely My Friend
Pick your fights wisely my friend.
You may pretend
That you can stop the clock.
Of course, you may
The clock’s hands stay,
Or mock time
In a rhyme.
But, in the end
Your inner clock
Will stop,
My friend.
K Morris - Poet 