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.
A Young Woman’s Shoes
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Autumn Fly
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.
Wild Flowers
I perceive
The flowers as I
Pass by.
Should I
Grieve
That they will die?
I paused and smelt
And felt
Their slim stem that I
Could so easily break.
I chose not to take
And did the blooms forsake
For I
Know that they shall die
This poem and others like it can be found in ‘The Writer’s Pen and other poems’, available here for the UK and here for the US.
The above pictures were taken in Spa Wood, SE19.
![IMG_9291[1]](https://kmorrispoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/img_92911.jpg?w=625)
Bluebells close-up ![IMG_9288[1]](https://kmorrispoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/img_92881-1.jpg?w=625)
Yellow flowers close-up ![IMG_9289[1]](https://kmorrispoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/img_92891.jpg?w=625)
Wild garlic close-up ![IMG_9287[1]](https://kmorrispoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/img_92871.jpg?w=625)
Blue flowers close-up ![IMG_9307[1]](https://kmorrispoet.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/img_93071.jpg?w=625)
White flowers close-up
National Limerick Day
A friend emailed me this morning, with a reminder that it is National Limerick Day, (https://nationaltoday.com/national-limerick-day/). So, in honour of this event I have composed the below limerick:
There was a young lady named Gale
Whose activities made her mother turn pale.
She went out to sea
With a vicar called Lee,
And used her dress as a sail!
Summer Hides Inside the Spring
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”.
Tuesday Humour – Vanity
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!”.
A Poem Inspired By My Walk in Spa Woods
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
The photographs show wooden sculptures in the woods
When A Young Lady Riding A Bike
When a young lady riding a bike
Said, “I have something you will like”.
I said, “in my sports car
You and I can go far,
But not so far on that bike”.
The Breeze
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
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!
K Morris - Poet 