In the early morning,
Stretching, yawning
I see
The world drear
With all it’s fear.
Or is it me
I see?
In The Early Morning
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Tag Archives: poets
There Was A Young Lady Named Ruth
There was a young lady named Ruth
Who invariably told the truth.
Her friends disappeared one by one
Until all of them where gone.
They found her most uncouth!
Conscience Uncontrolled Screams In Dreams
Conscience uncontrolled screams
In dreams.
In the lair
Of nightmare
The pretence of day
Is stripped away.
If you would discern
Me, then turn
And look behind
My smile to find
What lies within my heart.
But you do not possess the art
To traverse the curse of another’s dreams
The Game Of Fame
Far and near
Oft I hear
The echo chamber resound
With the sweet sound
Of those who play,
Day after day
The game
Of fame.
Sometimes I join in
With the happy din,
Or with a cynical grin
Stay away.
But o how tempting it is to play
The game
Of fame.
Cryogenics
A recent article in “The Daily Mail, entitled “Humans Frozen by Cryogenics Could Be Revived Using Stem Cells” http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-5462963/Humans-frozen-cryogenics-revived-using-stem-cells.html, reminded me of my poem, “Cryonics which is reproduced below:
“It is a will-o’-the-wisp, followed by the frightened or blind,
Who themselves bind
To the delusion, that the mist does not forever close
Over mouth and nose.
There are few posies for the departed,
Just an idea started
In the mind
Of those who would salvation find
In a deep freeze,
Designed to please
The ego
Of people who fear to go
Down that dark track
From whence none come back”.
“Cryonics” can be found in my collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind” http://moyhill.com/clock/.
There Was A Young Lady Named Bell
There was a young lady named Bell
Who quite spectacularly fell.
I was elsewhere at the time
Composing an intricate rhyme,
In a place called Dingley Dell.
—
There was a young lady named Bell
Who quite spectacularly fell.
I was elsewhere at the time
Engrossed in rhyme
As I did her mother tell …
Why Do Certain Sounds Bring Sadness To Mind?
Why do certain sounds bring
Sadness to mind?
I find
That when birds sing
And engine’s notes are in distance
Lost, that my resistance
To melancholy
Is low
And I go
In search of Keat’s Nightingale.
Yet tis folly
I think
To drink
Too much of Keat’s brimming cup.
But o how sweet it is to sup
At melancholy’s table
Provided we are able
To partake of her store
For a while,
Then, with a wisthful smile
Withdraw.
The Sword Of Damocles
Can the poet avoid the Sword of Damocles
Suspended above his head
By the thinnest thread?
His pleas
To those who he has offended
That he is merely speaking the truth
Will not prevent
The descent
Of sword from roof.
The poet’s curse
Is to write verse
That will
Sometimes chill
His readers to the heart.
They will traduce
Him for his art,
But the sword of truth
He must brandish high
Else he will die
Waking Early
On the cabinet, next to my bed, is a talking alarm clock with a big yellow button which, when pressed announces the time.
The Cliff Path
We walk the cliff path of Brexit
And pass
A mock-up of the empire
And Oxford’s dreaming spire.
The exit
Is down or up?
K Morris - Poet 