I heard sirens and birds
As I stood
In the darkening wood.
Later, when the sirens where gone
The birds sang on
As I passed through
The churchyard
Pondering on what is true
Sirens and Birds
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Tag Archives: free verse
Ennui
Me alone at home
Listening to the autumn rain.
You, on the train
Coming to relieve me of ennui.
We will play
On this rainy day.
But I can not pretend
That ennui will not descend again.
For I often find
That the rain
Hides behind a smile
The Autumn Rain is Falling
The autumn rain is falling,
I hear it on my window
It’s voice calling
To me of temporary
And permanent things.
I should go below
Leaving rhyme behind.
For I am not the wind
Nor the eternal rain.
And one day I must go
Cold
The cold bites hard
In the churchyard.
The temperature is zero.
I know
These fallen leaves
Do not deceive.
My autumn has come.
And alone
I go home
Heading for the churchyard
Philosophy
The weather grows colder
And I older.
The clock ticks on.
Each second gone
Forever lost to me.
I sit alone.
Mere flesh and bone.
Is there a possibility of immortality?
That may be.
But for now the clock mocks
All my philosophy.
I wonder, could ther
Steel and Glass
My first real girlfriend
Tore tart cards
In London phone boxes.
In the end
Those colourful art cards
Vanished, leaving steel and glass.
Now, when I pass
Those boxes in London streets
I imagine discreet meets
Organised online.
And after the laughter
And wine
Only steel and glass remain.
Hanging Baskets
The flowers are finished in the hanging baskets
That beautified in summertime.
Now the autumn has come
And I hear knocks
From dead things in the rain and wind.
The clock on the wall
Makes a steady tick
As flowers continue to fall.
Writing
I like to write
But sometimes the rhymes won’t come.
In the morning sun
I have written of pretty flowers
Who know not hours
And clocks that tick the day away.
At times I write
Of midnight doors where young women knock
And pause for a while
(but never stop).
My verse makes readers smile
While others curse.
But I can not deny
That sometimes the rhymes
Just won’t come.
Nails
She drunk, showing me
Her nails I can not see.
I drink my brandy
And try my best to engage
With a girl half my age.
Its hard to explain
To her drunken brain
That I am unable to see.
So I sip my brandy
And imagine her fingernails
She left with her friend.
I can not pretend
That there was no attraction
At least on my part.
A passing distraction
Turns into art.
Old Log
I have seen this same old log
Over many years
As I passed by with my dogs.
Years have flown.
I have walked alone
When my dogs have died.
Now I pass by
With another one.
Time moves forever on.
All logs decay.
I know one day
Dogs and I
Will not pass by.
But autumn leaves
Are beautiful to me.
K Morris - Poet 