Tag Archives: kevin morris poet

Grace’s Place

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!

The Paperback Edition of My Book “The Churchyard Yew and Other Poems” is Now Available

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 his poetry on TikTok

 

Kevin Morris reading a number of poems on TikTok. You don’t need to have an account to view the videos.

 

 

 

 

 

The Sad Demise of a Poet

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!

What is Reality?

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.

Satisfaction

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

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!

 

 

Backstreet

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

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.

Speculate to Accumulate

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!