She left her makeup behind
For him to find.
A common mistake
For a girl to make.
How easy to forget
Yet …
Yet
2 Replies
Tag Archives: poetry
My Birthday
Today is my birthday. I am 47, although I must confess to not feeling any different to how I felt yesterday! I will spend today relaxing before meeting friends for drinks in my favourite pub, the Railway Bell this evening, then going on for a curry. Like Prufrock I shall grow old, wear my trousers rolled, walk along the beach and eat a peach. On second thoughts, I shall stick to a few convivial pints with friends followed by a good curry!
Kevin
The Girl And The Oak
A girl passing through the wood
For a moment stood
Under an ancient oak.
The tree spoke.
“I have seen kingdoms rise and fall
And my branches have decked many a bridal hall.
But kings and lovers are all now dead”.
She heard not the words said
For earplugs fed
Pop music into her head.
Taking a knife she carved, “Lucy loves Tom”
Then, without a backward glance, she was gone.
Request For Readers To Write An Honest Review Of “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind” In Return For A Free Copy Of My Book
I have been busy over the last few days pulling together my latest collection of poems, “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind”. Poems about nature, mortality and the joys and pangs of love are interspersed with humorous poetry.
I hope to publish in mid January (hopefully sooner) and I am looking for readers willing to write an honest review of “Lost In The Labyrinth Of My Mind” in return for a free copy of my book. If you are interested in receiving a free copy in return for an honest review please contact me at newauthoronline (at) gmail dot com (the address is given in this way to defeat spammers).
Many thanks,
Kevin
Thoughts Of Norwood Past
It is a quiet new year’s day
A weak sun shows his face
Then hides away.
I awoke to pigeons cooing
Thoughts of a bygone age
And country folk a-wooing.
The pigeons are silent now
No more do sheep or cow
Pass.
No country lass
Gazing in the glass
Will say
“’Tis new year’s day.
I must away
To milk.
No dress of silk
For such as I.
Only the vaulted sky
And my love
For one who is nigh”.
(http://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-london/vol26/pp167-173).
New Year’s Eve
Cold hands.
Man stands
Gazing into the abyss
Of bliss.
The rain drums.
2016 comes
Ever near.
The new year.
Think?
Lost in drink.
The link
Is broken
The door no longer open
To admit the old.
The young and bold
Hold
The future, or so they say
And the old year ebbs away.
On Going Through My Junk Mail Folder
“Russian Women Online”,
I am fine
As I am
without your spam!
Go away
I will not pay.
Whatever you say
About beautiful women.
My money I will not be binning.
I will save my hard earned cash.
There you go, into the trash!
Today I will not be sinning.
Goodbye Russian women!
—
The above was prompted by an email received in my spam folder today (29 December 2015). I can not for the life of me think why Gmail placed this missive in junk mail …!
Ere We Die
On seeing the stormy sky
The poet thinks “man must die”.
He sees the young girl bloom
And says “she is destined for the tomb”.
Oh let us gather wild flowers
And not waste our powers
Trapped in ivory towers.
Beware the scholar’s domed head
For we are soon dead.
May our spirit fly
Ere we die
And are lost in endless sky.
And The River Runs On
Oh my nameless one.
Graceful as a swan.
You are here then gone
And the river runs on.
Chip
The weather seems colder
As you grow older.
The chip on your shoulder
May become a boulder
Weighing you down.
Be careful lest you drown
In your overwhelming sense of wrong.
Do please change that old song
It has gone on to long.
The record is stuck
Stop wallowing in muck.
The truth is we make our own luck!
K Morris - Poet 