On my way home
I passed by street lights
On a winter’s night
And thought of glorious Rome
As their temporary sparks
Held back the dark.
On my way home
I passed by street lights
On a winter’s night
And thought of glorious Rome
As their temporary sparks
Held back the dark.
When a young lady who works in vice
Went and slipped on some treacherous black ice,
And a vicar called Paul
Said, “I’ve seen many fall!”,
She said, “help me up off this ice!”.
I know a young lady named Hocking
Whose life is blameless not shocking.
Her friend Miss Coral
Is so very moral
And this poem is boring not shocking!
Recently I enjoyed a meal with my friend Jeff, during which he quoted from Tennyson’s beautiful poem, “Tears, Idle Tears”. The poem resonates with me and is reproduced below:
“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awaken’d birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign’d
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.”
Now I am tired
And think on love and lust.
All that is desired
Must end in naught but dust.
A useful updated list compiled by the Poetry School on where to submit your poetry, https://poetryschool.com/articles/where-to-submit-your-poetry/
Good luck with your submissions!
I was delighted to be invited by Ariadne Sawyer of the World Poetry Reading Series to appear on the show for Thursday 9 January. During my interview, I read a number of my poems, talked about what inspires me to compose poetry and read a number of my poems.
For a podcast of the show please visit https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-jan-9-2025-with-kevin-morris/. My segment begins approximately 22 minutes into the show.
They say there’s a very hungry ghost
Who goes around eating all the toast.
A girl called Coral
Says that he’s immoral.
But I’ve seen her eat the toast!
A most forgetful young lady named Fox
Has a habit of losing her socks.
The good vicar Ron
Has more than one
And the bishop he wears her frocks!
Today, on my birthday
I passed by a fallen tree
Being cleared away.
On my first birthday
The snow came.
I wonder, will it fall again
On the day
That I go away