In the dark park
A myriad leaves
Whirl in autumn’s breeze.
And optimists stress
The inevitability of progress.
But these fallen leaves
Do not deceive.
In the Dark Park
Leave a reply
Tag Archives: free verse
Dark and Light
I will close my curtain
And shut out the night.
But it is certain
That light
And dark
Will continue their fight
In my so human heart,
Until light and dark
Are swallowed by night.
On a Cold Autumn Day
On a cold autumn day
I find that time
Has stopped. But my clock
May be wound today.
Yet, one day
I will not
Know the day or time.
She Will Wear Heels for Me
She will wear heels for me.
I will have fun
And when I am done
Thoughts of the setting sun
And of eternal dust
Will come to cool my lust.
The Riddle
After their labours
They kissed him goodbye.
And his neighbours
Asked themselves why
2 young women laboured
Then kissed age goodbye.
Snake
So girlie and innocent
In your fearful fascination
With the big snake
In the aquarium.
You took my hand
In that public place.
Such girl-like innocence
And our lost grace.
In the Moment
In the moment
There’s the mad thrust
Of unthinking lust.
But after pleasure
Come thoughts of dust.
Poet Kevin Morris’s Poetry Included in Croydon Poetry Hour Anthology for 2022/2023
I am delighted to announce that a number of my poems have been included in “The Croydon Poetry Hour Anthology”, 2022/2023, https://www.lulu.com/shop/croydon-poets/croydon-poe-try-hour-anthology-20222023/paperback/product-v8r7e94.html?q=croydonpoetry+hour+2022%2F2023&page=1&pageSize=4
Among the poems included are:
“I Scent the Early Summer Air”,
“As I Drink My Red Wine”,,
“How Sweet and Sad Was the Bird”
And “In Early December”.
In Early December
In early December
November’s leaves still adorn
The woodland lawn.
Man’s pattern is made
In light and shade
And the gardener’s rake
Rakes all leaves.
Dust
In my bedroom
Your Perfume
Mingles with the dust
Of books.
Your scent lingers
On fingers.
But all I’ve touched
Will be dust.
Graces
I could call
On 2 young graces.
Silks and laces
So easily fall away.
I find charms
In a girl’s arms.
But they go with day
And my love of solitude
May love exclude.
I am glad
For I have
A kind of friend.
But all our graces
Must end
In the hard churchyard
For below
There is no pretend.
K Morris - Poet 