Tag Archives: free verse

New Poetry Videos by Poet Kevin Morris

Since returning to London on 22 April, I have recorded many of my poems on TikTok, https://www.tiktok.com/@kevinmorrispoet. You don’t have to have a TikTok account in order to view my videos.

 

If you visit my TikTok and like what you hear, do please consider following me on TikTok.

Birds and Men

I leave the pub behind

And find

In the song of birds

The truth not heard

In the words

Of men

Who prate and hate.

 

 

So I listen to birds

And purifying rain

For there is no hate

In birds or rain.

The Church and the Tree

Touching this tall old tree

I wonder what feels real to me:

This church of cold stone

Where people go to show their religiosity,

Or this rough bark

Warm from the spring sun.

It is the bark

That calls to my heart

And this gentle sun.

I Love the Wood

I long for the wet woods

Where the rainy breeze

Is full of flowers and leaves

And the damp earth

Speaks of death and rebirth.

I love the wood

When birds sing after rain.

 

 

I will surely die,

And Mother Nature will remain.

But we are forever part

Of nature’s great heart.

Her vital cycle of birth,

Death and good earth.

The Divinity of Rhyme

The clock shows the wrong time.

Sometimes a poem doesn’t rhyme.

I’ve heard people curse

At free verse,

But rhymes

Divine.

The Cleaners Mop

The cleaners mop

And cobwebs are swept away.

Some patients lust

After pretty nurses. The dust

Must be kept at bay.

But broom and mop

Can not stop

The coming of dust.

 

 

Cemetery

So many birds sing

In early spring

As I pass by

These numerous tombstones

Where the dead lie.

 

 

You also passed

So do not know

That birds sing

In this early spring

Over old stones.

Hospital Shadows

In the hospital, shadows come and go

On wards and corridors.

Some return again to sunshine and rain.

While others forever forgo

The delight of sunlight, wind and rain.

And fade on wards.
.

Copyright: Kevin Morris.

In the Hospital Garden, in Early Spring

In early spring,

In the hospital garden

No birds sing.

Or perhaps its me

With my thoughts of mortality

Who fails to hear

When they sing to men.
.

Copyright: Kevin Morris.

Hyacinths in a Hospital Garden

I knelt and smelt

 Hyacinths in the hospital garden.

Their scent

Was delicate and sweet.

.

The next time I went

To that self-same garden

Their scent

Had already been spent.

.

I grow much stronger,

Yet ponder

On a hospital garden

And scent

So soon spent.

.

Copyright: Kevin Morris