Young women’s feet
Kick autumn leaves.
Time deceives
Not. clocks
Do stop.
And once green leaves
Must turn to dust.
Young Women’s Feet
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Tag Archives: mortality
Leaving
On my way home
I touched the stone
Of my local church.
And longed to stay
With the singing birds
On this summer evening.
I have oft heard
The birds singing
And regretted leaving.
I envy them
For, unlike men
They do not weep.
For they see not
The final sleep.
While I
Knowing that man must die
Have the beauty of birdsong,
Which does not last long
We Walked Through the Graveyard
We
Walked through the graveyard.
She
Is frightened of death.
Earlier we
Drank wine.
Our bed
Was hot
The dead
Are forever here.
The graveyard plot
Draws lovers near.
Circular
A circular seat
Encompassing a tree.
Age will defeat
Thee and me.
Oak
“Oh ancient oak tree
What do you see?”.
“Many a past century.
People toing and froing,
Their lives going …
The war memorial nearby,
And I
See thee
Pass by”.
Why Do I Rush To Pass
Why do I rush to pass
Those who walk the churchyard path?
I reach my home
And leave behind the path
Along which all must pass,
To a place where bones
Find their final home,
Under a cold stone.
Dreaming
Seeming.
Yet merely
Dreaming,
Until we
Enter eternity.
Shadow
A shadow followed me
From tree to tree
As I did pass
Along the woodland path.
I paused to hear
The sweet birds sing.
And thought of spring
And the passing year.
Although I forgot my shadow,
My shadow did not go.
For our sweet birdsong
Does not last long.
The Wind in the Tree
As I
Pass by
A tree
I hear the wind,
And ponder
On my mortality.
And wonder,
How many see
In wind and tree,
Their own mortality.
On A Chilly Winter’s Evening
On a chilly winter’s night
The song of a bird
I heard
As he sang to me
From a churchyard tree.
Such delight,
And poignancy.
But that was in me.
K Morris - Poet 