I was delighted to read this 5 star review of my recently published poetry collection Shadows and Birdsong, which is available in Kindle and paperback. To read the review please follow this link https://aspholessaria.co.uk/2026/08/17/review-of-shadows-and-birdsong-by-kevin-morris/
The weather is good
(According to some).
In the summer wood
Leaves long dead
Brush my greying head.
Autumn will come
And the heat cease.
Yet leaves fall
And I recall
Autumn is yet to come.
In my childhood
I collected conkers and acorns
From leaf-strewn lawns
Today there is little breeze
And the leaves
Fall from trees
Thirsting for drink
And I hope for rain.
It will come,
But what has been done
Can not be undone
I am delighted to announce that my new poetry collection, Shadows and Birdsong is now available from Amazon in Kindle and paperback. To download a sample or purchase Shadows and Birdsong please click here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HDQ9QK3Z/
Book Description
Shadows and Birdsong brings together poems that reflect on nature, memory, friendship, and the quiet passing of time. Moving through woodlands, graveyards and everyday rooms, K Morris writes about the moments that stay with us and the ones that slip away.
The collection touches on ageing, loss, companionship, and the small details that shape a life: birds calling in the trees, the steady tick of a clock, the feel of rain, the presence of shadows. Some poems remember those who are gone; others simply observe the world as it is, with its mix of beauty and impermanence.
He bought
Her smile
And thought
For a while
He had caught
Her heart.
But, at break of day
She slipped away
Leaving her imprint
In ink
There once was a poet named Cecil
Who went to sea in a vessel.
As the boat sank
He penned verses blank.
But they never found them or Cecil!
I have sat on bar stools
As fools
Pontificate in love and hate.
From on high, I
Have judged women and men
Thinking myself superior to them
Yet in the quiet
Of morning time
I rhyme
Of imperfect man
And I who am
As them.
Let us deconstruct all things
In this Postmodernist day.
All our elusions must fall
Away
And everything be analysed
Until our eyes
Can no longer see
Beyond this reductionist
Ideology
We role played.
Afterwards you stayed
And spoke of your childhood
Which, on the whole, was good.
Then you told me
Of a family friend’s knee …
But now you are at university
And all that was long ago,
And besides, you do not know
Whether it was really so.
And of course you are free
To say “no”
To me
It happened years ago
And I have no responsibility
For what he may
Or may not have done.
Its just fun
To engage in role play.
No harm is done
Or so we say
Sitting in just
My boxer shorts
In the cool of a summer morning,
I think on is and ought.
I touch
My own skin.
And think how thin
Is the veil
That separates me
From the eternity
Of dust
A man in a sweet shop chooses
From a menu online.
The sweets are divine
The website says
So no-one loses.
The candy arrives
In pretty bows
And wrapping
Fragile as flowers.
He knows
How it goes:
The tapping of heels
Bring deals
Of sugar sweet
He can’t keep,
While the website
Offers fleeting delights
Of fresh flowers
He takes,
But his thirst
Remains unslaked
