Tag Archives: poetry

Poppy

Leave a reply

To those who died that you and me
Might live free.
To those who gave their sweet breath for King and Countrie.
I regret that yesterday
I had no cash to pay
For a poppy deep red
To remember the dead.

I will not know the stench
Of trench
Nor the wrench
Of fear
And pain as spear
Drains the life away.

What can the poet say
Who has never known
The touch of steel against bone?
We die alone
But most will peaceful go
And will not know
The woe
Of comrades lost,
Nor count the cost
Of bloody strife.
They will not give their life
That others (you and me)
May live free.

Having only my debit card I regret to say
That I could not buy
A blood red
Poppy to remember the dead
As I wended my way
To my nine to five job yesterday.

To My Dog, His Nose Pressed Up Against My window

2 Replies

“Tell me, what do you see?
As you gaze at yonder tree
Where squirrels jump from branch to branch
And leaves in the late Autumn air dance?

On seeing the fox, who strolls through the garden as though he owns the place
Do you trace in his wild face,
your fellow canine? And does his sharp bark
That oft times pearces the dark
Find an answering echo within your loyal dog heart?

Watching the world pass
Through my window glass,
Tell me
What do you see
As you gaze beyond yonder tree?”

Knickers

8 Replies

The below poem was inspired by a comment overheard by me while enjoying a drink in a pub last weekend (Saturday 29 October).

—

“This beer tastes like lady’s knickers”, says an elderly man at a table.
Standing at the bar, I am scarcely able
To contain my laughter, and idly think
As I enjoy my drink
“what about a bra
And are
There knickers for the male kind?”

I find
In pubs much amusement
And bemusement.
“How would he know?”
Better not to go
There I think
As I sink
My drink.

“Lady’s Knickers” beer
Would taste most queer.
I shall be boring and stick to a well known brew
Although ‘tis true
I am curious to know.
But better not to go …

Finishing my second pint, I leave.
I perceive
This incident will stay with me.
I shall with glee
Write it down
Though it be
Nothing profound.

Overheating

Leave a reply

You in that dress,
Trying to impress.
Its anyone’s guess why.
The heater near by,
We sat overheating,
Time eating away,
Though I knew you would stay,
Until break of day.

Come the morn, no cock crew,
Yet I knew we where through,
Until the next time.
O women and wine,
Are truly divine,
And man knows not,
When he has lost the plot …

The Clocks Have Gone Back

Leave a reply

The clocks have gone back and the weather is cold.
The bold
Venture outdoors.
The temperature underscores
That winter is here
And the year
Is nearing it’s close.

Fingers and toes
Freeze.
There is no breeze,
Only the chill air to please
Senses the all encompassing heat
Would defeat

A Bird in My Garden Sang

2 Replies

A bird in my garden sang.
A pang
(I no not why)
Into my heart sprang.
Perhaps it is the knowledge that I will die,
Though birds will still sing
Be it winter or spring,
And bring
A melancholy joy
To girl and boy.

The tears start
When nature’s beauty overpowers.
Countless hours
Has many a poet spent,
His efforts bent
On personifying mother nature,
The creator,
Who has no heart
Yet lives and breathes
Through his art.

A Review of my collection of poetry, “Refractions”

Leave a reply

I was delighted to receive the below review for my collection of poetry, “Refractions”:
“I was touched with the wisdom and the heart behind the words. To know that the beauty of the world and all its glory is not lost on anyone makes me humbled.
I read and enjoyed all of these works and each one touched me on a different level. I look forward to reading more from Kevin Morris”.
Thank you to the reviewer for taking the time to read and review “Refractions”, which is available, as an ebook in the Amazon Kindle store. For the review please visit, https://www.amazon.com/review/RR1WAIUSHF5PF/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01L5UC2H2.