I tried to grasp
The wind
Who sang to me.
But I could only catch
A thought.
But it flew free.
My words caper on paper
While the wind sings
And laughs at me.
Most things decline.
This mind
Will not stay.
Few will read my rhyme
When I have gone away.
Yet I have this day
Of Autumn
Where the wind blows, momentarily,
And I am caught
In inner talk
All is temporary
Save for the breeze
Who sings
Eternally.
I was very touched to read this new review of Shadows and Birdsong on Goodreads. Andrew Frank — who describes himself as “not a great follower of poetry” — found the book while sitting alone in a pub, and connected deeply with several poems.
He writes about:
He ends with a gentle invitation: he’s still sitting in the bar with a copy, happy to discuss the poems further.
You can read his full review here: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/8934320938
To walk through acorns
On Autumn lawns
While barefoot
Would give me pleasure
In this gentle weather.
But they might shut me up
Where the air
Is replete with bleach
And fluorescent lights
Burn day and night.
I would long for birdsong
And lawns
Littered with acorns.
I should walk barefoot.
I would attract strange looks.
But there would be no hospital ward.
To confine me.
Just the reward
Of autumn grass
Under my feet.
I should go
Before old time defeats
All I am
And see
On 10 August, I published my poetry collection Shadows and Birdsong, which is available in Kindle and paperback. You can find it here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0HDQ9QK3Z/
To listen to me reading one of the poems from Shadows and Birdsong — Caught Up in Thoughts of Work — on TikTok, please click here: https://www.tiktok.com/@kevinmorrispoet/video/7660016517932682518
If you do read Shadows and Birdsong, please consider leaving a review.
At the edge of the churchyard
I pause as a solitary bird sings.
Spring has long gone.
And early Autumn says all ways
End in the churchyard.
The traffic passes.
The heat has passed,
Temporarily.
The rain
Turns the grass
Green again.
Autumn draws near.
Another year
Will come.
But, if I am no longer here
Will it still be so?
Philosophers go
Down rabbit holes.
While I see
The rain
Has brought the greenery
Back again.
And I feel happy,
Temporarily.
I was delighted to receive this 4 star review of my recently released poetry collection Shadows and Birdsong:
“Kevin Morris’s latest poetry collection, Shadows and Birdsong, is a meditation on aging and mortality, familiar territory for readers who have read his previous collections. What sets this collection apart is a refining and deepening of Morris’s craft. The approaches to the transience of life are more varied, the rhyme schemes more sophisticated …”. To read the review on Goodreads please follow this link Elizabeth Gauffreau’s review of Shadows and Birdsong | Goodreads
The weather is good
(According to some).
In the summer wood
Leaves long dead
Brush my greying head.
Autumn will come
And the heat cease.
Yet leaves fall
And I recall
Autumn is yet to come.
In my childhood
I collected conkers and acorns
From leaf-strewn lawns
Today there is little breeze
And the leaves
Fall from trees
Thirsting for drink
And I hope for rain.
It will come,
But what has been done
Can not be undone
I am delighted to announce that my new poetry collection, Shadows and Birdsong is now available from Amazon in Kindle and paperback. To download a sample or purchase Shadows and Birdsong please click here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HDQ9QK3Z/
Book Description
Shadows and Birdsong brings together poems that reflect on nature, memory, friendship, and the quiet passing of time. Moving through woodlands, graveyards and everyday rooms, K Morris writes about the moments that stay with us and the ones that slip away.
The collection touches on ageing, loss, companionship, and the small details that shape a life: birds calling in the trees, the steady tick of a clock, the feel of rain, the presence of shadows. Some poems remember those who are gone; others simply observe the world as it is, with its mix of beauty and impermanence.
He bought
Her smile
And thought
For a while
He had caught
Her heart.
But, at break of day
She slipped away
Leaving her imprint
In ink
