A moderate patriotism is good
And I raise a glass
To my queen and country.
While, in the ancient wood
The eternal wind does pass
Over tree
And grass.
Jubilee
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Tag Archives: poetry blogs
Mark’s Date in the Park
There once was a fiction writer named Mark
Who wrote about his date in the park.
A young lady named Lou
Said, “I shall sue you!
As I didn’t do that in the park!”
My interview on access radio
A couple of weeks ago i was interviewed on Access Radio. During my interview, i talked about my life as a visually impaired person in the UK. In addition, i read a number of my poems.
I am pleased to be able to announce that my interview is now available on sound cloud. It is split up into two parts and they can be found here.
PART 1: https://soundcloud.com/kevin-stephen-morris/kevins-interview-on-access-radio-1
PART 2: https://soundcloud.com/kevin-stephen-morris/kevins-interview-on-access-radio-part-2
There Once Was a Clever Old Ghost
There once was a clever old ghost
Who spent all his days stealing toast.
When they covered it in glue
He said, “I’ll start stealing stew!”.
That clever and most enterprising old ghost!
We All Disjoint
At some point
We all disjoint
And go below
To must
And dust.
Transhumanists may deny
That I
Must surely die.
Yet below
I must go.
The Rain Falls Hard
Rain falls hard
In the churchyard.
But those below
Do not know.
On another day
Some other may,
Passing me by,
Think as I.
There Once Was a Most Poetical Old Squire
There once was a most poetical old squire
Who composed a poem to his housemaid Moriah.
As she knelt on the floor
She said, “do give me more!”.
So he did, which delighted his housemaid Moriah!
With My Joyful Balloon
With my joyful balloon
I found the sky.
But find in middle-age
That the balloon soon
Deflates. And of late
My thoughts engage
With Raleigh’s stage.
(Note: the reference to “Raleigh’s stage” is to his poem “All the Worlds a Stage”, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MMuWT1iLn3w
This Show
I know
This show
Must pass.
Each lass
Must go,
And lad also,
To graveyard plot
Where our hot
Lust turns to dust,
And poet’s rhyme
Is out of time.
Behind My Poetry
A secret desire
May poetry inspire.
As for me
I ofttimes see
Behind my lust
The eternal dust
Waiting for me.
K Morris - Poet 