My dog yelps in his sleep.
Can a canine weep?
And what thoughts of joy or pain
Pass through his sleeping brain?
In an exstasy of sound and smell
You dwell.
The freshly roasted chicken, just out of reach is sheer hell
To my friend
Who’s end
Is food and play.
Your day
Will not be so long as mine,
Yet we humans whine
While you in the moment live
And give such love
To your god above
Who sits envying you your state of grace.
Would that I could change place
With you
My friend true.
“The Blackbird on the wing, so sweetly sings
And brings
Joy to we two
Who
Through
These wild flowers
Walk and talk,
Whiling away many an hour”.
But she put no store
In my words
Nor in the singing of the birds,
Which went unheard,
For the ring
She wore
Was connected to the Internet of Things.
The pious wag their fingers
While love’s perfume
Lingers
In a darkened room,
Where mere mortals enjoy
That which the saint would destroy.
How easy to construe
The new and inviting
For what is true.
The ride exciting
Will
Thrill
For a while.
The denial
That a thing has become banal
Shall
Not prevent it from being so.
The rider halfheartedly says “woe”
But the horse
Will continue on it’s familiar course.
“I will turn back”the horsemen doth say
“Yet how easy it is to stay
On the well trodden way.
The day
Grows dark
And the lark
Has long since ceased to sing.
The weary fairies in their ring
To me call.
Oh, how easy ‘Tis to fall …”.
An unsuitable attachment
Leads on to detachment.
The slow drip, drip
Of anoyances strip
Bare
Any pretence that either party care.
Beware
For the perfect bust
Engenders lust
Which may be for true passion mistaken.
When dalliance is over, the forsaken
Heart Cries
Out for love, and seeks joy in another’s eyes.
‘Tis frequently a temporary reprieve
For lonleness will oft times cause man to believe
That desire is love.
The gods above
Shrug,
For they have seen it all before.
And well know
That further woe
Is in store.
The fire
Rages
In stages.
At times it burns low
And I know
Sleep
Will creep
Into my room,,
Her sweet perfume
Rendering me
Free
Of desire.
Yet at other times the fire
Doth burn
Bright.
My thoughts turn
To delight,
Which slippery as eels
Itself reveals,
Then, a fleeting satisfaction seals.
Midnight steals
Away.
The hot coal
In my soul
By day
Burns low
Yet I know
The glow
Is always there
And will, once more, flare
Thank you to my colleague Alison, for drawing my attention to Thomas Hardy’s poem, “The Dead Man Walking”. It is a powerful piece which does, I believe speake for itself, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZP1v54SeHY4
“I haven’t done this kind of thing before. I mean girls from my background do sometimes. I know they do, but it’s not kind of a normal thing to do is it? I know other girls do it but, really I’m not sure …”, she said, conscious of repeating herself.
The girl leant forward on the hotel barstool, her stillettos clicking against it as she did so.
“There is a first time for everything”, he said trying not to be overt in his admiration of those slim bare legs. “Why not give it a go, I’ve never had anyone regret it afterwards?”
“Oh I don’t know. What will my friends think of me? As I just told you, girls don’t usually do this kind of thing. Well girls like me that is”. She said staring nervously at the money on the bar.
“Go on, you know you want to”, the man replied giving what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Well … as you say my friends don’t need to know and I’m an open minded kind of girl, always up for trying new things. No one is watching are they?” she said glancing around the practically empty bar.
“No, no, no one is looking at us. Now is as good a time as any if you want to go through with it”, he said, glancing at her tiny, perfectly manicured fingers as they played nervously with the cash on the bar.
“OK, I’ve made a decision”, she said picking up the money and, glancing around for one final time handing it to her companion. “I like what I’ve seen so, yes I’ll buy your book. Will you sign it for me?”, she asked smiling shyly …
I was pleased to receive a letter in yesterday’s post advising me that my collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” (https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/190559769X), has been added to the stock of Liverpool Library (https://liverpool.gov.uk/libraries/find-a-library/central-library/). As someone born and bred in that great city, I am delighted the people of Liverpool will be able to borrow “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”.
Kevin
To recognise the human and still do.
To see a heart true
And yet go through
With it, for a deal is a deal,
And ‘tis foretold
That an agreement sealed
By gold
Will hold
For what is sold is forever sold.
The heart may command
The hand
To withdraw
From the wolf’s paw.
But the forn
Torn
By circumstance dallies
With the wolf, who yawns
While the fawn tallies
The cost
Of innocence lost.
K Morris - Poet 