I recall
Collecting conkers and acorns
From woodland lawns.
Some came over the wall
To lie
on the path.
I gathered them
As I passed.
I was a boy back then
And loved Autumn.
I love her still
And know I will
As all men
Become as those conkers and acorns
I gathered in childhood
From woodland lawns.
I have held them tight
Although I know
Come the end of night
They must go
And I will be left,
Bereft
Thinking on butterflies
Who pass
And lust,
Fragile as glass.
I have heard the hours
Tick by
And grown old
In arms I can not hold.
But Spring flowers
Provide a temporary
Relief from cold.
I have sought
The flower’s heart
And fought
With the same
pleasure and pain
Over and over again.
In the end only art remains
For blooms must fade
And the poet leaves behind
Merely a rhyme
On ink stained page
On Thursday 17 September, I hosted my monthly slot on the World Poetry Café, which is broadcast on Vancouver Coop Radio.
During my segment, we discussed why many people seem to lack interest in poetry. I also read a number of my poems, including several from my recently published collection Shadows and Birdsong, which is available in Kindle and paperback from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HDQ9QK3Z/
To listen to the podcast, please follow this link: https://www.mixcloud.com/VictorSchwartzman/world-poetry-cafe-sept-17-with-kevin-morris/ My segment begins approximately 20 minutes into the show and runs for about 25 minutes. I also read a couple of poems at the end of the podcast.
My thanks to the World Poetry Café and to co‑hosts Ariadne and Victor. As always, I very much enjoyed appearing on the show.
I tried to grasp
The wind
Who sang to me.
But I could only catch
A thought.
But it flew free.
My words caper on paper
While the wind sings
And laughs at me.
Most things decline.
This mind
Will not stay.
Few will read my rhyme
When I have gone away.
Yet I have this day
Of Autumn
Where the wind blows, momentarily,
And I am caught
In inner talk
All is temporary
Save for the breeze
Who sings
Eternally.
To walk through acorns
On Autumn lawns
While barefoot
Would give me pleasure
In this gentle weather.
But they might shut me up
Where the air
Is replete with bleach
And fluorescent lights
Burn day and night.
I would long for birdsong
And lawns
Littered with acorns.
I should walk barefoot.
I would attract strange looks.
But there would be no hospital ward.
To confine me.
Just the reward
Of autumn grass
Under my feet.
I should go
Before old time defeats
All I am
And see
I was extremely pleased to receive another wonderful review of my recently released poetry collection, Shadows and Birdsong.
“… I personally liked Should I Shed a Tear and Umbrella, but Heart to Heart I loved them all …”
To read the review in full, please visit: https://echoesinanemptyroom.com/2026/09/08/shadows-and-birdsong-by-k-morris/
On 10 August, I published my poetry collection Shadows and Birdsong, which is available in Kindle and paperback. You can find it here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0HDQ9QK3Z/
To listen to me reading one of the poems from Shadows and Birdsong — Caught Up in Thoughts of Work — on TikTok, please click here: https://www.tiktok.com/@kevinmorrispoet/video/7660016517932682518
If you do read Shadows and Birdsong, please consider leaving a review.
The heat has passed,
Temporarily.
The rain
Turns the grass
Green again.
Autumn draws near.
Another year
Will come.
But, if I am no longer here
Will it still be so?
Philosophers go
Down rabbit holes.
While I see
The rain
Has brought the greenery
Back again.
And I feel happy,
Temporarily.
I was delighted to receive this 4 star review of my recently released poetry collection Shadows and Birdsong:
“Kevin Morris’s latest poetry collection, Shadows and Birdsong, is a meditation on aging and mortality, familiar territory for readers who have read his previous collections. What sets this collection apart is a refining and deepening of Morris’s craft. The approaches to the transience of life are more varied, the rhyme schemes more sophisticated …”. To read the review on Goodreads please follow this link Elizabeth Gauffreau’s review of Shadows and Birdsong | Goodreads
All smells fresh after rain.
The scent of wet earth
Speaks of rebirth.
But excess heat
Will defeat the rain.
These dead leaves
Hang
Or fall
And I recall
Autumn is yet to come.
