out into the rain I dash.
A flash
Of lightening.
The sky, for a moment brightening
And me wondering
Whether I will survive the thundering
As my guide dog’s harness is part steel,
So its really not ideal …
—
My guide dog needed to pay a call of nature earlier this evening. While I was aware of the rain, I was not cognisant of the storm which suddenly broke overhead. Had I been aware, I certainly would have remained safely indoors! As it was, all ended well.
When a young man named Coker
Remarked, “your verse ’tis mediocre”,
And I said, “come hither”,
He began to quiver,
As I raised a very large poker!
When they say
“You must be in the progressive way”,
I shall talk
Of my walk
Of earlier today.
Of the wind’s dance,
And of more than one fallen branch.
When old men make a pass
At the youthful lass,
I wonder whether
Either party ever
Look in the glass
And think, “all this will, one day, pass”
Nymphs will play
And hair turn to grey.
The woman (once girl)
Seeing autumn leaves whirl,
May consider the youthful lass,
And think, “all things must, one day, pass”.
The bedroom door is open.
No words are spoken
Passions stir
But noone is there.
Closing the bedroom door,
Memories I recall.
‘Tis all
As it was before.
There once was a poet named Lin
Who wrote poems on a baked bean tin.
She composed in free verse,
Which grew progressively worse,
But all the Modernists loved Lin!
When a young lady named Leigh
Dated a debauchee,
Her good friend Kate,
Being a reprobate,
Joined those 2 for tea.
When that old reprobate death
Fell in love with Beth,
She hid away
And I heard her say,
“I value my sweet breath!”.
On Wednesday 13 March, I shall be giving a private poetry reading, along with several other poets. I have a slot of 15 minutes to fill, and I am in the process of determining which of my poems to read. Thus far I have decided to recite the below poems:
I shall be spending part of my weekend in deciding which of my other poems to read.
Sorting through my work kindles in me a desire to publish a “selected Poems”. This is, I think a longer-term project requiring considerable thought and much burning of the midnight oil. It is, nonetheless something on which my heart is set.
Kevin
There was a young lady of Deal
Who broke a cheap high-heel.
She hopped through the town
In her flimsy nightgown
Pursued by a vicar called Neil!
K Morris - Poet 