To flowers that, in springtime
Bud,
Would that I could
By this rhyme,
Spoken
By me,
Cause thee
To open.
But thine sweet scent,
Would soon be spent.
To Flowers that, in Springtime Bud
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Tag Archives: Rhyme
Ashes Now to Ashes
I was delighted and humbled that my poem, “The Poet” https://kmorrispoet.com/2019/11/29/the-poet-2/, inspired Lorraine to compose her fine poem, “Ashes Now to Ashes” https://blindwilderness.wordpress.com/2019/11/29/ashes-now-to-ashes/.
The Poet
Poetry dies
In eyes
Grown dim
With sin.
Thomas rages
At the dying light.
What use are pages
At the final, “goodnight!
Culture (a double Acrostic)
Cultivated people unwind.
Literature may take
Us to unknown realms.
Every book, must end.
An Autumn Bird
An autumn bird
I heard
Sing
Ere the sky
Grew bright,
And I
Thought of spring,
And eternal night.
A Rhyme for Election Time
A rhyme
For election time.
Claim and counter claim.
The public say, “they
lie, its always the same”.
Manifestos contain
Promises (to be kept, or broken).
Are politician’s words, spoken,
At election time,
Worth more
than a poor
Poet’s rhyme?
A Young Woman, Overheard
“He said, “can you do
Me a favour?”,,
If you know what I mean?”,
Its easy to misconstrue
2 plus 2 as 92,
But, me, enjoying the flavour
Of my food, had a thought,
Positively obscene,
That the mathematical law
Does mean
That 2, plus 2
Always equals 4.
When A Young Lady of Ealing
When a young lady of Ealing
Said, “I have a peculiar feeling”,
And I said, “take off your dress
As it will relieve your stress”,
Her right hook sent me reeling!
My Friend, Whose Name Is Miss Hiller
My friend, whose name is Miss Hiller
Has recently published her brand new thriller.
My pleasure is always great,
And I also can’t wait,
To enjoy Miss Hiller’s brand new thriller
The Old Ache
I awake
With an old ache,
Half pleasure, half pain.
One can not
Refrain
From the red hot
Thought
One ought
Not to think
When dreaming (or awake).
The devil does wink
At my old ache,
Half pleasure, half pain
And whispers “you aint,
Got restraint
And you know,
You will go
There again,
And taste the kiss
From which you ought
To refrain.
And then deny
With the old lie,
Of thought”.
K Morris - Poet 