Category Archives: uncategorised

Of Book Signings and Ebooks

As an author, I derive great pleasure from providing family, friends and other readers with signed copies of my paperback books. Indeed, over the last week or so, I have mailed 3 copies of my recently released “Selected Poems”, https://www.amazon.co.uk/Selected-Poems-K-Morris/dp/1688049800, and furnished 3 signed copies to friends face-to-face.

In addition to my squashed spider of a signature, each book contains a personalised message. Its wonderful to receive the heartfelt messages of thanks and to know that a reader will have a physical copy of my “Selected Poems” on their bookshelves to enjoy for years to come.

Whilst I can not envisage the demise of physical books (either paperback or hardback) as many people, including me love to hold a real book in their hands, the growth in ebooks has driven the development of solutions enabling authors to sign electronic copies of their books. See, for example this article, https://selfpublishingadvice.org/book-marketing-tip-how-to-offer-signed-books-at-low-cost/.

I haven’t used Authorgraph (one of the solutions mentioned in the above article). However the ability to sign ebooks opens up new possibilities for both readers and authors. No longer does a UK author need to send a signed (physical) copy of his/her book halfway around the world by post, as he/she can sign an electronic book remotely. Of course many readers will, I feel sure still wish to own a signed (physical) copy of a book. However, for those who prefer ebooks, or others who can not aford the expense of postage and packaging, the ability to have an ebook signed by their favourite author can only be a good thing.

Kevin

When A Beautiful Spy Who Looked Forlorn

When a beautiful spy who looked forlorn
Said, “I must surely die at dawn”,
And I replied, “you are very hot”,
She said, “I thank you a lot,
But I still must die at dawn!”.

My Guest Post On Short Prose

I was honoured to appear on Gabriela’s wonderful blog, (a writer I greatly admire).

For my guest post, please follow this link, https://shortprose.blog/2019/09/26/meet-a-wonderful-poet-kevin-morris-guest-post-poetry/

Death and the Poet

Back in 2015, I wrote “Epitaph On A Poet”. Looking back at my composition, I detect sadness with, perhaps a touch of humour:

A book of poems upon his grave

Could not the poet save.

The few his words touched

Failed to keep him from the dust.

When A Young Lady Named Lyme

When a young lady named Lyme
Asked, “would you like a good time?”,
I said, “would you take a look
In my newly published poetry book,,
As I’m sure you’re into great rhyme!

When A Lady With Expertise In Latin

When a lady with expertise in latin
Dressed in a short dress of satin,
A little known poet called Morris
Read from The Odes of Horace,
But alas, he did lack any latin!

When a lady with expertise in latin
Dressed in a short dress of satin,
A little known poet called Morris
Read from The Odes of Horace,
Whilst dressed in silk and pink satin!

The Extraordinary Shall Become Ordinary

The extraordinary
Soon becomes ordinary.
And man does require
A more extreme
Tingle to kindle
His fire
Of desire.
For when a dream
Becomes reality
Often we see
The banality
Of it all
But, the writing being on the wall
We fall
Into a more extreme dream
And run
After a still hotter sun,
But our fun
Shall become banal
And we shall
Continue to run
After the setting
Sun,
Regretting
The bed
Where love is dead.
Yet it is not so
For, in your heart you know
That love and care
Was never there.

I Scent the Autumn Rain

I scent the autumn rain,
Comforting. The same
Rain as fell
As when I was a younger man.
Yet nature’s plan
Is upset
For, although the rain
Is as wet
As yesteryear
I fear
That the seasons grow confused
And I am bemused
By this warmer weather.
Yes the rain
Does remain
The same
But increasing storm
And strange
Weather, warns of climate change.

A Young Lady Whose Name Is White

A young lady whose name is White
Visited my website late last night,
And left a message truly shocking
About the loss of shoe and stocking,
Do you think she’ll be back tonight?