A child plays ball below.
A long time ago
I lay in bed
The same sound running through my head.
The thud of ball on wall
Is all I recall.
The ball is now still
As evening falls over Beulah Hill.
—
As I wrote this, a child and an adult played ball in the garden below my home. The sound brought to mind lying in bed at boarding school (I was sick), as children played football in the playground below my window. The poem was penned today (as the game took place).
The sun on my bookcase.
Books, their plain binding suffused with light.
Cars pass.
The song of the bird, here then gone.
The traffic continues on
Swishing as the great tide
That ebbs and flows.
The bird sings again
Competing with the vehicles noise (and winning)!
A crow khaws once.
A woodpecker joins in.
9:40, sitting at my computer, listening to the morning.
One of my favourite restaurants, the Thai Crystal, which is situated some 20 minutes walk from my home, was hit by a bus at 6:30 am on 23 September. Extensive damage was done to the front of the building but, fortunately the staff who live on the premises where uninjured, while the bus driver received only minor injuries. Had the accident taken place on a busy evening there is little doubt there could have been serious injuries or worse. I thank god (or fate) that the accident happened when it did.
Kevin
I am fortunate to live within 10-15 minutes walking distance of Upper Norwood’s Joint Library, the oldest and, I believe the only independent institution of it’s kind, (http://uppernorwoodlibrary.org/).
In search of ways to get my book, “Dalliance: A Collection of Poetry and Prose” into the hands of more readers I visited the library to ascertain whether they would add it to their shelves. To my delight a librarian confirmed the library would be pleased to accept my book. Its wonderful to know that “Dalliance” is available for the residents of Noorwood to enjoy.
The following article contains useful advice on getting a self published book into a library, (http://www.wikihow.com/Get-a-Self-Published-Book-into-Libraries). The article mentions the importance of specifying that you wish your book to be added to the library’s stock rather than sold. This is good advice and I asked the librarian to add “Dalliance” to the library’s shelves rather than selling it.
My experience diverged from the advice contained in the article in the following manner. The article refers to many libraries requiring more than one copy of a book. I offered the Upper Norwood Joint Library 2 copies of “Dalliance”. However the librarian politely advised me that it is their policy to only accept 1 copy of a book.
On my next visit to the city of my birth, Liverpool I will make a point of popping into Liverpool’s central library and donating a copy of my work.
Kevin
Oppressive heat. Barely a breath of wind. Smoke, something noxious, burning. A plane breaks the stillness. There is no restbite, the stifling heat continues.
Standing at my open living room window. A flash of lightening followed, soon afterwards by the angry thunder eclipsing, momentarily the incessant patter of the rain.
Branches russle, the wild wind like a passionate, half crazed lover wraps me in her wild embrace. I revel in her untamed grasp, long to go with her yet fear letting go.
Beyond the noisy elements birds sing and, imperceptibly, summer dwindles towards it’s close.
Standing in my kitchen, peeling an orange, I was arrested in my progress by a sound cold, short and sharp – The barking of one of the many foxes who make their homes in and around Crystal Palace. “Bark” the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Once again, “bark”, what are you about my friend? Do you hunt for food or call to your brethren? My dog lies seemingly unperturbed in his bed. He is your distant cousin but on this evening acknowledges you not. Sometimes he stands, nose pressed against the window, intent on you, his distant relative in the garden far below, but tonight he communes not with you. Fox, dog, so close and yet so far removed. Creature of domesticity, something wild lurks within. Sometimes you give short, sharp barks like your relation yet, if your paths chanced to cross you would give chase. You are, my dog, mine but not wholly so. You are part of the domestic hearth but yet have a paw in the wilderness. When you dream you are, I think closer to the wild fox calling at my window than you are to puny man.
The barking has ceased but the sound of death lingers on.
On popping into the hairdressers this morning (I like to get my hair cut at least once a year whether it needs it or not), I learned that the leader of the Labour Party, Ed Miliband, had visited the Upper Norwood and Crystal Palace area in which I live, http://www.croydonguardian.co.uk/archive/2013/12/09/10864355.Labour_leader_Ed_Miliband_visits_small_businesses_in_Upper_Norwood_and_Crystal_Palace/. Apparently he popped into the shop but, I understand that he did not enjoy the attentions of the excellent hairdressers who, periodically have the dubious pleasure of cutting my own unruly mop! He did, however pop into the BookSeller Crow, a shop which I visit from time to time. The visit was aimed at promoting local small businesses of which BookSeller Crow is one such.
The above news pales into insignificance compared to the exploits of my guide dog, Trigger who decided, while I was having my hair cut, to present a towel to a gentleman who was also having his hair cut. It is the retriever in him which causes him to pick up all kinds of objects, my guide dog that is, not the customer.
Here in London’s Crystal Palace autumn lingers. The perfume from fallen leaves scents the air. How strange that people spend vast amounts on expensive scents when nature produces perfumes more fragrant than anything man is capable of producing.
Autumn is melancholy and beauty inextricably interwoven. The gorgeous smells emanating from the newly fallen leaves make me feel good to be alive. Yet it is, at the same time the dying of the year, the interlude between life giving summer with it’s blooming roses and winter which will, inevitably clasp us to her icey bosom. Yet life continues far beneath winter’s frosty grip and, come the spring we will be delighted by birds building their nests, roses budding and the sound of lawn mowers as the powerful aroma of newly mown grass scents the air. The great cycle, turn and turn again. We are part of something beautiful and a little mysterious.
Autumn
Today’s Daily Mail carries an article concerning the possible rebuilding of the Crystal Palace which was destroyed by fire in 1936. I live some 25 minutes walk from Crystal Palace park which contains the ruins of the Crystal Palace, consequently I was interested to learn of the plans of a Chinese billionaire to reconstruct the glass structure.
Today Crystal Palace is a wonderful place in which to enjoy a walk with it’s lush green grass (well perhaps not so verdant at this time of year), the lake with it’s wild fowl and the sports centre for those possessing the spirit of adventure. Watch out for the dinosaurs though which lurk by the lake ready to pounce on the unwary!
For the article please visit http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2378752/Crystal-Palace-reconstructed-billionaire-Chinese-property-developer-nearly-80-years-destroyed-fire.html
K Morris - Poet 