I hear the tide’s roar
In a shell
That I keep near to me.
‘Tis some time since I walked along the shore.
But I know well
That the sea
Yearns to be free.
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Love Unrequited
“Unrequited” can be found in “Refractions” by K Morris
There Was A Young Lady Named Ling
There was a young lady named Ling.
We met at the start of spring.
She said “nature is budding.
Do have some Christmas pudding”.
But it really wasn’t my fing!
—
There was a young lady named Ling.
We met at the start of spring.
She heaved a great sigh
And said “I don’t know why
The spring it rhymes with Ling”.
Fleeting
My poem, “Leaves Blown At Night”, came to me as I walked with my guide dog, Trigger, on a December evening in Liverpool. The leaves blowing around my feet reminded me of the fleetingness of things and, in particular my own mortality
Though She Be Hot
Though she
Be hot
He knows her not.
Though the maid
She stayed
And she
Be hot
He knows her not.
Though they did converse
Tis perverse
That she
Be hot
Yet he knows her not.
Though she
Be hot
She knows him not.
10 Of The Best Poems About Darkness
A good selection of poems about darkness on the site Interesting Literature, including Thomas Hardy’s “The Darkling Thrush”, which is one of my favourite poems. To read “10 of the best poems about darkness” please visit, https://interestingliterature.com/2018/02/14/10-of-the-best-poems-about-darkness/.
I have myself written several poems about darkness, including “Midnight” which is reproduced below:
“Midnight, black as pitch.
No scheming demon, ghost, nor witch.
Only the darkness, which in the human heart resides,
Manifests itself in cruelty and pride”.
(Taken from “Dalliance; a collection of poetry and prose”, by K Morris, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QQVJC7E).
“Nothing matters very much, and few things matter at all”
I am a great lover of quotations. I recently came across the below quotation by Arthur Balfour, which struck a chord with me:
“Nothing matters very much, and few things matter at all”.
In his work “The Conservative Party from Peel to Churchill”, the late Lord Robert Blake writes of Balfour in the following terms:
“The new Prime Minister was a person of immense charm, great intellectual power, and much political sagacity. Like his uncle, he took it for granted that parliamentary democracy would only work—if it could work at all—as long as “the masses” continued to elect their leaders from “the classes”. Not that he was himself, any more than Salisbury, a typical member of the order to which he belonged. He was too clever, too cool and too detached to be thus categorised …”.
(“The Conservative Party from Peel to Churchill”, by Lord Robert Blake. Eyre and Spottiswoode (publishers) LTD. Chapter 5, Tory Democracy and the rule of Lord Salisbury 1881-1902).
For anyone interested in finding out more about the enigmatic Balfour, the following article may be of interest, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Balfour.
There Was An Elderly Man Named Spink
There was an elderly man named Spink
Who drove his poor wife to drink.
He returned home very late
With his young mistress Kate
In a taxi the colour of pink!
We All Fall
We all
Fall
From time to time
And a few
(Not me and you!)
Hide our crime
From view
In rhyme.
She Was Japanese
She was Japanese
And while not a tease
Her performance was satisfactory.
The light was dim, and he
Did not understand
She
– Broken
– Spoken,
Far from her native land
