The weather grows colder
And I older.
The clock ticks on.
Each second gone
Forever lost to me.
I sit alone.
Mere flesh and bone.
Is there a possibility of immortality?
That may be.
But for now the clock mocks
All my philosophy.
I wonder, could ther
My first real girlfriend
Tore tart cards
In London phone boxes.
In the end
Those colourful art cards
Vanished, leaving steel and glass.
Now, when I pass
Those boxes in London streets
I imagine discreet meets
Organised online.
And after the laughter
And wine
Only steel and glass remain.
The flowers are finished in the hanging baskets
That beautified in summertime.
Now the autumn has come
And I hear knocks
From dead things in the rain and wind.
The clock on the wall
Makes a steady tick
As flowers continue to fall.
There once was an author named Dickens
Who wrote a novel all about chickens.
It lay undiscovered for years
Among some old bottled beers
And a spinster who kept drunken chickens!
There once was a young man named Mole
Who said, “I believe you have no soul!”
An old person called Neville
Said “I’m not the devil!”
And his eyes they blazed like hot coal …!
I like to write
But sometimes the rhymes won’t come.
In the morning sun
I have written of pretty flowers
Who know not hours
And clocks that tick the day away.
At times I write
Of midnight doors where young women knock
And pause for a while
(but never stop).
My verse makes readers smile
While others curse.
But I can not deny
That sometimes the rhymes
Just won’t come.
She drunk, showing me
Her nails I can not see.
I drink my brandy
And try my best to engage
With a girl half my age.
Its hard to explain
To her drunken brain
That I am unable to see.
So I sip my brandy
And imagine her fingernails
She left with her friend.
I can not pretend
That there was no attraction
At least on my part.
A passing distraction
Turns into art.
When a young lady in red
Invited me to come to bed
I said, “dear Miss Moore!
This is a furniture store!
And the manager has turned red!”
Alexa plays
As my clock chimes
Reminding me of slower days.
When Father Time
Kept a steady pace.
Many have vanished without trace.
This rhyme
Will not save
Me from the grave
And if people should find
My poetry
It will not profit me.
Yet I must write
For the night
Will end all my poetry
Over the last 10 days, I have received 2 emails purporting to come from WordPress and asking me to renew my domain. The below is the text of the latest scam, and I’m reproducing it here in order to bring the scam to the attention of my followers and other WordPress users:
“Auto Payment ID Declined
Dear Valued Customer,
We attempted to process your automatic payment for your domain renewal at WordPress.com, but unfortunately, your payment method was declined.
To avoid any disruption to your website or email services, please update your payment method or renew your domain manually as soon as possible.
Renew My Domain <https://soyfix.com/log/log/login.php>
Thank you for choosing WordPress.com.
________________________________
Kind regards,
WordPress.com Billing Team”.
You will see that the link to renew the domain does not contain a WordPress web address. This is a big red flag indicating that the email does not come from WordPress and should be deleted.
If you have any doubts about the status of your domain you should log into your account on wordpress.com to check its status. Please never click on a link within an email purporting to come from WordPress.
K Morris - Poet 