In the early morning
When all is still and quiet
My thoughts run riot.
Then, the silence takes me
To a place
Where no thought exists in me. ,
And I am free
To simply be
Finding the Quiet in Me
5 Replies
Tag Archives: crystal palace poetry
Walking Though the Graveyard in the Pouring Rain
Walking through the graveyard in the pouring rain
I do not feel alone
Nor do I regret the wet
For I can feel the heavy rain
While those who sleep beneath the gravestones
Are company for me.
And these old churchyard trees
Thrive in the rain.
Too Much Latin
There once was a great lover of Latin
Who had a job as a professional assassin.
Whilst reading great Virgil
He became very ill.
That’s what comes of reading too much Latin!
On a September Day
On a September day
I kicked a stick away.
That branch once danced
In the soft spring air.
Now I, with no care
Kick it along the forest floor
For it will dance no more
And eventually decay
I smile today
But in time will find decay.
Childhood
The sound of the ice cream van
Reminds me of my childhood.
I could rhyme of an innocent time
Before I became a man
When all was good.
But a monster got inside my head.
He is long dead.
Yet still I find in my mind
Him lurking somewhere there.
And I feel that childhood pain again.
Sometimes I am free
In my poetry.
Dawn who Like to Eat Acorns
When a young lady known as Dawn
Went and swallowed acorns on the lawn,
And they said to her, “dear!
Trees will sprout from your ear!”,
She said, “pardon!”, and swallowed another acorn
Gorgeous Miss Unity
The gorgeous and very talented Miss Unity
Is well known in the poetry community.
She reads her verse nude,
Which many find quite rude!
And then I go home with Unity …!
The Careless Young Guy
There once was a careless young guy
Who fell into some very sharp cacti.
He said with a squeal,
“These are the real deal!”.
Then sighed and died from those cacti!
Midnight Poetry
As I sat reciting poetry at midnight
I spied a young lady dressed in white.
When I said, “are you a ghost!”,
She said, “no! I’m your host!
And your poetry woke me up at midnight!”
Pistols in Bristol
There once was a man from Bristol
Who was famous for his antique pistol.
When he gave a great cough
That old gun it went off!
There once was a man from Bristol …!
K Morris - Poet 