In honour of the season, I have reproduced below my poem, Autumn, which can be found in my collection Light and Shade https://www.amazon.co.uk/Light-Shade-serious-not-poems-ebook/dp/B08B4X3GVX. Autumn is an acrostic. You can find out about acrostics here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acrostic.
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August has long since ceased to be.
Upon the forest floor,
The oak and chestnut has shed its store,
Unceremoniously, of conker and acorn.
Mulch for the lawn,
Now leaves feed the ground.
Provider of pleasure.
Romance isn’t free.
Oldest profession
Some say.
Time has a price
In your brief arms.
The clock jingles.
Under the sheet
They meet.
Eagerness of him.
Some say sin.
Cultivated people unwind.
Literature may take
Us to unknown realms.
Every book, must end.
Poet Kevin Morris reading a further selection of his work.
Underneath,
Nakedness.
Desired.
Riotous imaginings in his head.
Every man has his fantasy.
She, sliding out of clothes.
Slowly exposing an untried rose
August has long since ceased to be.
Upon the forest floor,
The oak and Chestnut has shed its store,
Unceremoniously, of conker and acorn.
Mulch for the lawn,
Now leaves feed the ground.
K Morris - Poet 