There once was a man known as Lee
Who went and wrote an obituary of me.
I am still alive
And continue to thrive.
But that Lee he drowned out at sea!
Lee Who Wrote an Obituary of Me
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The Hospital Fountain
I recall the fountain’s fall
Reminding me of rain.
Hospital patients come and go.
Sometimes, the water stops,
Then begins again.
But when sickles chop
Life’s flow stops.
Pigeon Pie
I know a young man named Guy
Who has a fondness for pigeon pie.
I hear from Fay
That he’s flown away.
Fay and I, we blame the pie!
Foresters Have Left Woodchips
Foresters have left woodchips
And great logs to lie
By the woodland path.
Sometimes I pause and sit,
But often pass by.
And on this spring day
I see the inevitability
That all things must decay.
Yet I have sunshine
And young women and wine.
And this fleeting time.
(Doubtless this poem was influenced by Ernest Dowson)
The Tinkle of Windchimes
The tinkle of windchimes
And birdsong heard in my mum’s garden
Brought into my mind
Life’s great beauty, and thoughts of mortality.
An Update on My Admission to Walton Neuro Centre
On 27 February, I wrote about my admission to Walton Neuro Centre in Liverpool where I Underwent treatment for a brain abscess (https://kmorrispoet.com/2025/02/27/an-explanation-from-kevin-morris/).
I am delighted to report that I was discharged from Walton Neuro Centre and I’m now writing this in my mum’s back garden as birds sing and wind chimes tinkle.
I am grateful beyond words to the staff in Walton Neuro Centre for their excellent care.
Some of the poems I composed whilst in hospital will find their way into a future poetry collection, or perhaps into a book dedicated to my experiences of dealing with my brain abscess.
You can find out about the Walton Centre here Home | The Walton Centre Website.
The Poetical Young Nurse
I once knew a poetical young nurse
Who was fond of composing fine verse.
She wrote one on Paul
Who said, as I recall,
“Why are you writing on me nurse!”
Cemetery
So many birds sing
In early spring
As I pass by
These numerous tombstones
Where the dead lie.
You also passed
So do not know
That birds sing
In this early spring
Over old stones.
The School Ghoul
A boy who attended my old school
Once claimed to have seen a ghoul!
That place wasn’t Eton
So he wasn’t beaten.
But the headmaster called him a fool!
Spring Grass
The scent of spring grass
Enters through the window
As I lie in my hospital bed.
This day will surely pass
And I will go
Where the mower turns grass to hay.
I relish this spring day
And will walk in sun
As the mower goes to and thro
Until my rhyme is done.
K Morris - Poet 