Gulls Turning.
Me yearning
To be free
As the sea
Yearning
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Tag Archives: k morris poet
She Stood Upon Her Head
“I don’t like rules” she said
As she stood upon her head.
“I agree with thee
‘Tis good to be free.
Now do take tea
With me”
I said with glee.
“But the manager is looking.
Soon the shop he will be shutting.
I hear him shout
“You two, get out”!
She replied with a pout
Wishes
You may desire a thing
And whistle in the wind.
But wishes fail to fly
And oft times die
With a doleful sigh.
Such is the lot Of you and I.
Commonplace
The dress she bought
Was cheap and short.
The bus she caught.
The vehicle’s slow pace
Her burning face.
Barely coping.
For salvation hoping.
Groping
For a way out.
Inwardly she shouts.
People are about
Staring
She is almost beyond caring.
A suburban place
His flushed face.
A girl’s disgrace.
How very common place.
Come The Gloom
It is too soon
For the moon
To Rise.
The prize
Is for the taking.
The wolf is not yet waking
But come the gloom
his thirst he will be slaking.
Same Minds Think Alike
When the clock does strike.
Joy is at an end.
She descends
To be swallowed by night
Fluorescent
When there is no night or day
Man will have lost his way.
When the harsh bulb does forever shine
And man is caught in a mesh so fine
He can not see
And believes himself free
Methinks he will have passed a line.
When the face of love
Is replaced by a glove
And lonely people
Hide in a steple
Of the mind
Humans will find
They have crossed the Rubicon
Something indefinable has gone
And the fluorescent tubes burn forever on.
Sitting At My Desk
Sitting at my desk
Thinking of the final rest.
No need to weep
When I take my final sleep.
I will not know
When I go
To the place where snow
Does not fall
And even the raven’s call
Can not penetrate
For beyond the eternal gate
There is neither love nor hate.
Ten To Four
It is almost dark at ten to four.
One year more
Has Almost gone.
Time with stealthy, unhurried tread, moves inexorably on.
—
13 December 2015.
What
What
Lies
Beneath
The
Pure
White
Sheet?
