I start
To write
As morning’s light
Begins to show.
The dark
Must follow
Morning’s glow.
Only the hollow
Do not know
That tis so.
Morning’s Light
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Tag Archives: free verse
As I Walked Home One Dark Halloween
As I walked home one dark Halloween
I met a young lady in green.
Her name it was Grace
And back at her place
Sat the devil eating strawberries and cream!
Book Announcement: 10 of My Poems Included in Croydon Poetry Hour Anthology 2020/21
I am delighted to announce that 10 of my poems have been included in Croydon Poetry Hour Anthology 2020/21. Amongst those of my poems appearing in the book are Blackbird, Leaving and Whilst Drunk on Very Strong Beer. For anyone who is interested, Croydon Poetry Hour Anthology 2020/21 can be purchased here https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/croydon-poets/croydon-poetry-hour-anthology-202021/paperback/product-q777n8.html?page=1&pageSize=4
I have reproduced below my poem Leaving. The text of the poem is followed by a Youtube video of me reading it.
Leaving
On my way home
I touched the stone
Of my local church.
And longed to stay
With the singing birds
On this summer evening.
I have oft heard
The birds singing
And regretted leaving.
I envy them
For, unlike men
They do not weep.
For they see not
The final sleep.
While I
Knowing that man must die
Have the beauty of birdsong,
Which does not last long.
Some Civilisations Go Slow
Some civilisations go slow
In their decay
While others stay
But a short time.
Birdsong does not last.
And poets must rhyme
Of empires that pass
And fast climate change.
The Hidden Door
I have seen
In a dream
A hidden door.
Through which all pass
And are seen
By man no more.
All Poets Cease their Rhyme
All poets cease their rhyme
In the fullness of time.
While others stop their run
‘Ere their time has come.
Conscious of the Wind
The wind sings
In the trees
As I,
Alone,
Pass by
Gravestone.
Or, on the busy thoroughfare,
Oft, he catches me unaware
With piles of fallen leaves
And great boughs brought low.
And then I know
That all must go.
Birds
An intense sense
Of my mortality
Comes to me
When I hear
The sweet clear
Song of birds.
Oft when caught
In useless thought
Or in empty words,
I hear the birds.
I see beauty.
And am free
As I Grow Older
As I grow older
A girl’s bare shoulder
And her sweet perfume
Still attracts. Distracts me.
But, when I hear
Her call me “Sir”,
Morning becomes late afternoon,
As night draws near.
Visit
She kept her heels on.
Then was gone.
Her scent lingered on fingers.
While she smiled
At an envelope
With no name
K Morris - Poet 