Harken
As gardeners their scythes
Sharpen
And see, how the skies
Darken.
Scythes
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Tag Archives: poem
There Was A Young Man Called Nile
There was a young man called Nile
Who kept a pet crocodile.
The creature dreamed
Until, it seemed
He was back in the river Nile.
There Was A Young Lady Called Leigh
There was a young lady called Leigh
Who climbed a very tall tree.
She yelled, with a frown
“Help me get down!”,
But I was lost at sea!
Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘Woman’.
Poet Kevin Morris reading his poem ‘Woman’.
This poem appears in my collection of poetry ‘Refractions’: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Refractions-K-MORRIS-ebook/dp/B01L5UC2H2, under the title ‘Women’. In retrospect, I believe that ‘Woman’ better fits the poem, hence I have changed its title on YouTube.
Figurines
Not all metal is brass.
Figurines
Perform sceenes,
Reflected back in glass,
Then out of the play pass.
Some will return again
To cause the director pain,
But not all metal is brass.
They Dance on the Edge of a Ledge
The audience watches askance
As they dance
On the edge
Of a ledge.
Feet moving faster.
The music and laughter.
What follows after
Cool reflection or disaster?
She stoops but who conquers?
The situation bonkers.
A man old enough to be her father.
They would rather
Not think
On those who wink
And titter.
A bitter taste
Is a man’s disgrace
Yet still men dally
With silk and lace.
The Moralist and the Flower
A moralist gazed upon a flower soft
And with delicacy coughed.
“’Tis most unseemly” said he
“To see
The bee
Make free
With thee.
Thou has forsook
The holy book.
Think on hell
And mark it well
Lest in torment you dwell”.
The flower spake
“Oh moralist forsake
This obsession
With the repression
Of girl and lad.
Wouldst thou have the whole world sad?
Can not you be glad
At the joy
Of maid and boy?
The moralist shook his grey head
And said
“Thou should dread hell’s fire
For desire
Is sin.
Satan enters in
And God destroys
Those who wallow in lustful joys.
The flower said, “breathe in my scent
And relent
Of strictures severe.
Come you near
And touch my throbbing heart.
Let me teach you love’s art.
Give me your hands,
And we will travel to undiscovered lands”.
The moralist did relent
And partook of the flower’s scent.
The heavens where not rent
And the sky’s great tent
Failed to fall.
Only the nightingale’s call
Filled the spring air
Where the lovers dallied without a care.
How Thin
Oh how thin
Is the divide betwixt virtue and sin.
A rake’s grin
Or a smile
That beguiles
Girls who flirt
In skirts
Short.
Ought?
Ought not?
Passion hot.
Cool reflection
May lead to dejection.
There is no rejection
When the coin does spin
And what some call sin
Enters in.
Silk And Lace
Silk and lace.
Those legs.
Her face.
She leaves
not a hair out of place.
“Hey Diddle Diddle” For Modern Times
Hey diddle diddle.
The cat’s on the fiddle.
The cow kidnapped the moon.
The policeman laughed at the overtime
And the butler ran away with the spoon.
K Morris - Poet 