I saw a square
Of sunlight fall
On my study wall.
It is no longer there –
We all borrow
Each joy and sorrow
Until our square
Vanishes into empty air.
A Square of Sunlight
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Tag Archives: croydon poets
I Feel the Wind
I feel the wind
On my skin
And hear him
Whisper in the trees
Reminding me of you.
I go in
And face my darkening window
Were I to die tonight
I would go happy –
Yet tomorrow will probably come.
I will walk in sun
Or rain.
Then, returning home again
I will face my window
But not the same
One as tonight
Short Walk
When I take the short walk
Through the churchyard, my thought
Often turns
To lessons not learned
And chances spurned.
And then I turn
To my so ordinary day
And say,
“I will learn!”
Yet still my way
Remains the same
Treadmill of pleasure and pain.
But my demons will stop
When the devil knocks
Eleanor Rigby Played
Eleanor Rigby played
As I sat at the table.
She was lonely.
Nothing stays.
I too am lonely at times
But rhymes
Keep me company.
We all must die
Lonely or Otherwise.
Makeup on girl’s eyes
Will not keep
Them from sleep.
And poetry has saved
None from the grave.
Yet later that same day
A child greeted me
In the cemetery
In early spring
Early March
Early March.
Winter’s last blast
Tries to deny
The spring
Grandiose
I shall compose
A poem grandiose
To love and lust
And how I just
Pricked my nose
On yonder rose!
Lost Glasses
When a Marxist who had lost his glasses
Said, “religion is the opiate of the masses”.
And I said, “How so?”
He said “I don’t know!
And comrade have you seen my glasses!”
In the Quiet Time
In the quiet time
Before I go online
I see the sunshine
Fall on my office walls.
If I could stay
And watch the sunlight play
I would be happy,
Temporarily.
I have seen another January
Come and go
And trust I will see
The coming spring
Bring flowers to me.
But man’s hours
Are brief as flowers
And I may go
And not know
January or spring
The Human Heart and Art
In the early morning
Before the birds are heard
I think on light
And dark
And how the human heart
Makes art.
For we are light
And dark
Ark
I awake to rain again.
Should I build an ark?
If I do the shark …
My thoughts grow far too dark …
A bear in my bed
Would keep me from sleep
For fear that it would eat …
I have no dread of the pussycat,
But what of the mouse and rat …
For the poor pussycat
Must be fed …
I do like dogs
Yet fear they would gobble up frogs!
I imagine the crocodile’s smile
As he lies, just like a log
Waiting for some cat or unfortunate dog
To pass by …
On second thoughts, perhaps I
Should wait for the rain to stop
For I can not chop wood in rain …
K Morris - Poet 