The wind blew chill
In the darkening woods.
I heard an owl’s cry
And for a moment stood
As the daylight
Continued into night.
The wind blew chill
In the darkening woods.
I heard an owl’s cry
And for a moment stood
As the daylight
Continued into night.
Sometimes, in dreams, it seems
To me
That what I feel and see
Is reality.
But, when I awake
I realise my mistake,
And partake in what we designate as reality.
Yet I may dream
And the solid things I feel and see
May merely seem to be
As Poe saw long ago
On 4 December, I appeared on the World Poetry Café. During my segment, I read Ernest Dowson’s “They are Not Long” and Sir Walter Ralegh’s “Even Such is Time”. In addition, I read a number of my own poems and talked about my writing process.
To listen to the show please follow this link World Poetry Cafe Dec 4 2025 with Kevin Morris by VictorSchwartzman | Mixcloud. My bit appears approximately 20 minutes into the podcast.
My thanks to Ariadne Sawyer for hosting me on the World Poetry Café.
The Autumn dark is coming down.
One day I will drown
And leave the night
And the light.
For I am bound by dark
And will not fight
The inevitable night.
There once was an elderly writer known as Ted
Who said, “burn all my works when I’m dead!”
His young lover Divine
Said, “they’re all online!
With the picture of the vicar in our bed …!”
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
When a moral old lady named Nevin
Said, “Kevin, you won’t get to heaven!”
A gorgeous young sinner called Bell
Said, “Its more fun in hell.
And Kevin, I’ll take you to heaven …!”
When a young lady wearing a vest
Said, “do you like my chest?”
I said, “its so good to touch.
Do tell me, are you Dutch?”
And I stroked that fine wooden chest!
As I sat reading poetry
A figure passed me.
I wonder, in future years
Will another, without fear
See pass by
A moving phantom, as did I?
Or did I see
Some future me
As I sat alone at home
Pondering on poetry?
When a young lady said with delight,
“I am challenging you to a fight!”
I said to her, “Claire!
I am washing my hair!”
She said, “you did that last night!”