When a gorgeous young lady named Grace
Invited me back to her place,
I met with the Devil,
Who was not on the level!
But I enjoyed my time with Grace!
When a gorgeous young lady named Grace
Invited me back to her place,
I met with the Devil,
Who was not on the level!
But I enjoyed my time with Grace!
On 9 June, I announced that my poetry collection “The Churchyard Yew and Other Poems” was available as a Kindle download from Amazon, https://kmorrispoet.com/2024/06/09/k-morris-new-collection-of-poetry-the-churchyard-yew-and-other-poems-is-available-on-amazon/.
Due to various circumstances it took longer than anticipated to make the paperback edition of “The Churchyard Yew” available. However, I am pleased to announce that the paperback is now available and can be found here, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0D9NPV8KQ/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=.
If you do read “The Churchyard Yew” please do consider leaving a review.
Kevin Morris reading a number of poems on TikTok. You don’t need to have an account to view the videos.
A man in a boat on a moat
Went and wrote a poem on his goat.
But the poem was not profound
And the poet he sadly drowned
And the police they are questioning the goat!
I have dreamed
The strangest dreams
And believed them to be true.
When I die
Will I finally find the reality
Of all I see?
No, I will see
No more of dream
Or of what we call reality
For I will no longer be me.
The birds outside
Are so easily satisfied
With stale bread.
My dog loudly sighs
As he eyes
That tempting bread.
But none can pass
Through glass to grass …
There once was a poet in a garret
Who lived all alone with his parrot.
I regret his verse
It grew steadily worse
Until he was murdered by his parrot!
After the beauties of Kew
I went with you
To a cheap hotel.
I remember I almost fell
As we mounted the stairs
To their unfriendly glares.
I can remember your name.
Did I feel shame?
I really can not recall
But I recollect a fall
And those dangerous stairs
In a backstreet hotel.
As I try to write
The tick tock
Of the clock
Measures my day and night.
At other times
Lost in rhymes
I hear it not.
The beat of women’s feet
Has measured my pleasure
And pain. But the clock mocks
Us all. We fall
In love and lust,
And time turns all to dust.
FOWC with Fandango — Speculate – This, That, and the Other (fivedotoh.com)
I met a young lady named Kate
Who said, “you must speculate to accumulate!”.
So I spent all my money
On Kate and Miss Honey.
And now I own just a plate!