I see fallen leaves blown
Hither and thither,
And I wonder whither,
Time has flown
I See Fallen Leaves Blown
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I Saw Carefree Spring Kiss Winter Goodbye
I
Saw carefree spring kiss
Winter goodbye.
And I
Found bliss
Midst newly opened flowers
That time devours.
I saw summer hot
Take the spring,
But cared not
For I
Was still in love with spring.
I saw autumn come,
With her gentle sun
And knew my hours
Midst sweet flowers
Must fade away.
Now, on a winter’s day
I think on the flower’s bloom
Which is, so soon
Gone,
And on my grey hair,
And I wonder where,
The carefree, spring has gone.
17
She helped him to choose booze
In a store,
And said, “I am 17,
So can not drink”.
He did think
Her more mature,
But no, some teenage boy’s dream,
And new wine,
Is divine,
But not for the mature.
I Can Handle
I handle
The bangle
That did jingle
On your wrist.
There was no tingle
As lips touched lips,
For we, never kissed.
I can handle
The bangle
That now gathers dust.
Love is a potent thing,
And lust,
To, has it’s sting.
Review: The Collected Poems of K. Morris
I was delighted to receive this review of my Selected Poems, by Kaye Lynne Booth.
The Collected Poems of K. Morris is a delightful selection of poems by K. Morris. These poems are written with sensitivity and a candid eye. Poetry is more than simple rhyming and alliteration. It is rhythm and cadence. It is choosing just the right words and putting them in the correct order to draw a vivid picture in the readers mind in a manner that is pleasing to the hear. Poetry is meant to be read aloud. Morris’ relaxing tone and ease of rhyming makes his words flow smooth off the reader’s palate. In this collection of poetry, Morris shares his unique view on death, time, nature, and everyday existence.
I give The Collected Poems of K. Morris four quills.
Kaye Lynne Booth does honest book reviews on Writing to be Read in exchange for ARCs. Have a book you’d like reviewed? Contact Kaye at kayebooth(at)yahoo(dot)com.
A Young Lady Whose Name Is Pinky
A young lady whose name is Pinky
Wore a dress both short and slinky.
She came round to my place
Dressed in fine silk and lace,
To discuss philosophy over a drinkie.
Alarm
In the churchyard,
A morning bird
Sounded an alarm call,
Then, silence,
fell,
Over all
When A Leading Gangster, Whose Name Was Mark
When a leading gangster, whose name was Mark
Said, “your future is bleak and dark.
As with this big gun
I shall end your fun,
I said, “take a look behind you, Mark!”.
Solitary Bird
On a cold December evening
I heard
A solitary bird
And sought for meaning
In her song of joy and pain.
Doubtless, I shall do so again
For ’tis easy to see poetry,
Though she, sings not for humanity.
An opportunity for Croydon authors and poets to sell their work on Sunday 8 December
Sean Creighton is running a stall in Croydon, on Sunday 8 December, offering authors the opportunity to display/sell their works. If you are an author and/or poet based in the vicinity, and are interested in participating, please see this link for details, https://seancreighton1947.wordpress.com/2019/12/01/croydon-events-and-news-at-2-december/.
K Morris - Poet 