One day all writers go
To a great library
Where all is dark
Books are unused
And silence pervades
One Day
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Tag Archives: reading
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!
Flying
I heard
A beautiful bird.
She sang of joy
To man and boy,
And nectar sweet
That I might eat.
She said, “I have flown high
And been lost in the great sky.
Come with me, you can be as I”.
I flew with her, but she did lie.
A Kind Of Love
She wraps me in her warm embrace.
In her face, a kind of grace.
We race
Towards our goal,
To be whole,
For a moment one.
Then it is gone.
We dress and move on.
Cliche
It is a fine day
And there are bills to pay.
“We will be good tomorrow”
“There will be no more sorrow”.
The clichéd things we say
And there are bills to pay …
Yearning
Gulls Turning.
Me yearning
To be free
As the sea
Wishes
You may desire a thing
And whistle in the wind.
But wishes fail to fly
And oft times die
With a doleful sigh.
Such is the lot Of you and I.
I Remember, I Remember By Thomas Hood
A beautiful and poignant poem by the English poet, Thomas Hood. “thee tree is living yet” says it all.
—
I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.
I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The violets, and the lily-cups
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,
The tree is living yet!
I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.
I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now ’tis little joy
To know I’m farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.
Same Minds Think Alike
When the clock does strike.
Joy is at an end.
She descends
To be swallowed by night
Fluorescent
When there is no night or day
Man will have lost his way.
When the harsh bulb does forever shine
And man is caught in a mesh so fine
He can not see
And believes himself free
Methinks he will have passed a line.
When the face of love
Is replaced by a glove
And lonely people
Hide in a steple
Of the mind
Humans will find
They have crossed the Rubicon
Something indefinable has gone
And the fluorescent tubes burn forever on.
K Morris - Poet 