I heard birds
And the clock,
And wondered,
When, and where
My heart
Will stop.
When, and Where
2 Replies
Tag Archives: Rhyme
On a Quiet Sunday
On a quiet Sunday
In Spring
I heard the clock’s
Tick tock.
It said, “this day
Of spring
Is full of sunshine.
Girls without socks
Play. But sunshine
Does not stay.
And all rhyme
Has it’s time”.
When I Met with the Easter Bunny
When I met with the Easter Bunny
She called me “sweet” and her “honey”.
She came back to mine,
And after kisses and wine,
That bunny she left with my money …!
Under Spring Sky
Under spring sky
I touched blossom
Temporary as I.
I Met a Young Nun in December
I met a young nun in December
Who gave me a night to remember.
A very old monk
Snored in his bunk,
While that nun sang hymns in December
Floral Clock
A clock without hands
Encircled by flowers
Holds command
Over poets and flowers.
We know not
The hour
But our clock
Will stop.
(The above poem was inspired by the floral clock in the Walled Garden of Woolton Woods, https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/6911662).
Grass
Sweet scent
Of new-mown grass.
Youth spent
In thoughtless play.
Many pass
That self-same way,
Savouring grass
While it lasts.
A Fan of Edgar Alan Poe
An old lady I happen to know
Is a fan of Edgar Alan Poe.
She owns a black cat,
But that’s enough about that,
As Usher just fell on my toe!
Relaxing in Bed
As I lay on a brand new bed
With a most beautiful young lady in red,
A girl named Claire
Said, “excuse me sir,
But do you intend to buy that bed?”.
The Key to My Clock
The key to my clock
Is cold to my hand.
I can command
My old clock
To cease it’s chime.
But no rhyme stops
The sickle’s chop.
K Morris - Poet 