I am delighted to have had 5 of my poems published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal. To read my poems please visit https://lothlorienpoetryjournal.blogspot.com/2024/10/five-poems-by-kevin-morris.html
I have often desired
To play with fire
Though I know
The hot coal
Will sear my soul.
I have frequently said
“Come to bed”.
We undressed.
She caressed
And love was dead.
A girl’s youthful arms have their charms.
But by morning’s bright light
How often have men awoken from dream
And seen they grow old.
I know a young lady named Miss Kipps
Who is looking for a friend with benefits.
When I say, “honey,
I have no money”,
That Miss Kipps her sides she almost splits!
When my fun is done
You put your dress on.
We chat for a while.
You make me smile.
And then are gone.
There have been countless men
Over the centuries. But when
The poet sees a myriad fallen leaves
He knows these leaves must outnumber men.
And men fall like leaves.
I’m having a bit of a fling
With a girl who calls herself Ling.
My wife Moriah
Fancies the squire,
And the squire he likes to swing!
Is not the insect on this tree
Happier than me?
He will live and die
In this wood
As I pass by pondering on love.
He knows naught of sorrow,
Or poets who rhyme of borrowed time
And a tomorrow
That may never come.
He leaves his mark on decaying bark
And knows not why.
While I leave this brief rhyme behind.
When a young lady who is very inclusive
Said, “our love it will not be exclusive”.
And I said to Coral,
“Is that girl really moral?”,
She said, “no! but she is very inclusive!”
I long for rain
To come and drum
On my window panes.
It speaks to me
Of the great sea
From whence I came.
In love or lust
We make the rain.
Our progeny swim in the sea
From whence all came.
I am man, sea and rain,
And the eternal dust
The Path to Eternity
The churchyard floodlight
Momentarily brightens the night.
But the graves stand out white
Both day and night.
The graveyard is opposite my home.
It’s old stones
Have seen my shadow pass
Along that path
Were the moral and immoral
Cease their quarrel
In eternal dust.
K Morris - Poet 