The below was sent to me by a female friend and is reproduced with her kind permission. The poem pertains to an abusive relationship so, if this may trigger emotions you would not wish to be triggered, you may wish to avoid reading the below:
I’m glad I’m out of there
Now, it’s time for some self-care
You don’t deserve me
You pushed and you shoved me
Where there’s violence, there’s no real love there
You left your shoes under my bed.
It must
Be said
That there was no love, just lust
On my part,
And your calculating, heart.
You did not return,
And I, never learned.
It may seem strange to repost my poem “Autum Fly” in the spring. However, the weather was cold yesterday. Indeed it was autumnal and, for a time wintry in nature. The change in weather brought to mind “Autumn Fly”, which is reproduced below:
An autumn fly
Buzzes around my head.
Summer is dead
Yet will not die.
Seasons pass.
We are brittle as glass
This fly
And I.
Summer hides inside
The spring.
Yet I find
That winter is not far behind,
For when the cold wind
Does blow,
On a spring day
I know
That each season passeth away.
Though, Winter’s snow may stay
For a cold spring day.
Whilst the late summer sun
Says, “autumn will come”.
When a gentleman said, “I maintain
That you sir, are extremely vain!”,
I said, “that I deny.
I’m a very modest guy,
Who can’t help his superior brain!”.
The path taken less often than I should,
This tranquil track through a nearby wood.
A spot with trees for walls
Where sunlight through the branches falls.
An oasis from the urban din
I find a quiet place within.
An inner space where the heart can be still,
A peaceful spot on this wooded hill.
The path to the road ascends.
A cloud of gloom on me descends.
I must return to this rented land
Where advertising hoardings stand.
A world where empty vessels make most noise,
And people play with broken toys.
—
“The Path Through the Wood” can be found in my collection, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”, which is available in the Amazon Kindle store, https://www.amazon.com/Lost-labyrinth-my-mind-Morris-ebook/dp/B01AF5EPVY/.
A Sitting Long-nosed Bear or Wolf Sculpture
The poem was inspired by my walks through Spa Woods, an ancient area of woodland which I am lucky enough to have very close to my home. You can find out about Spa Woods here, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spa_Wood.
Butterfly Sculpture
I hear the breeze
In these
Familiar trees
And wish to stay here,
Amidst these leaves.
For, when I leave these trees
The wind’s blast
Is surpassed
By the drear
Noise of vehicles, passing near.
When a young lady standing on a ledge
Said, “sir, would you like some veg?”,
An elderly gentleman by the name of Bean
Said something which was really quite obscene,
So I threw him in a hedge!
They have fun
In the sun.
Their perfect
Bodies reject
The fact that they
Will grow old.
Where I to be bold
And say,
“All this will pass
Away”,
Lad and lass would laugh.
Though, perhaps a thoughtful few
Would say
“That’s true.
But we must
Enjoy our day
Ere we are dust”.
And I would nod,
And go away.
A young lady living in a box
One day lost all of her socks.
She had to search high and low,
Which is strange, as I happen to know,
That she lives in a very small box!
