Today is not Hot.
Ought I to confess my thought?
Ought I not?
The day is cold
But the grave is colder yet.
Would I regret
Where I to be bold
And unfold
My thought?
Ought I? Ought I not?
In the final sleep there is neither cold
Nor hot.
The day is cold,
Should I be bold?
Or not?
The creep
Of girl’s feet
Bring delight
At night.
Neighbours sleep.
A lady who’s name is Brass
Has a heart fragile as glass.
When I criticised her art
Her tears did start
And her friends all called me crass!
Ought
I to fall
For a tall
Or a short
Girl?
One may be gone
In a whirl
Of love or lust
It matters not, for we are dust
And must
Ourselves besport
Ere we are caught
By one who will
Forever chill
Both love and lust.
There was a young man called Mow
Who composed a poem about a crow
In ink deep blue.
But that poem it flew
Far away from that young man Mow.
Matthew Stewart, of the blog Rogue Strands has produced his list of the best poetry blogs of 2018, https://roguestrands.blogspot.com/2018/12/the-best-uk-poetry-blogs-of-2018.html. I was pleased to find amongst the listings the website of Giles L Turnbull, http://gilesturnbullpoet.com. Apart from the fact that I enjoy his work, Giles and I both attended Swansea University (although not at the same time). We later connected online and you can read more about the series of coincidences which led to our meeting here, http://gilesturnbullpoet.com/2018/07/01/i-spy-with-my-little-eye-something-beginning-with-a-poet/.
Kevin
A confusion over socks.
She laughs.
Their paths
Did Converge for a time
His memory unlocks
And she, and her socks
Are bound in a rhyme.
Post boxes red.
What is said
Must be red
Unless the recipient be dead
Or gone away.
True the mail
May fail
And letters go astray.
And let it never be said
That it is convenient when some letters go unread …
A young lady who’s name is Wong
Has love for me most strong,
But my girlfriend Lou
Comes home at 2
So it can’t last very long …
The wind laughs in a tree.
And as for me
I think on my poetry
K Morris - Poet 