I think of you
Without shoe
Or sock,
But passion’s knock
Will never be heard
So I shall cease this empty word
Play and do something useful with my day.
But, when in the land
Of sleep,
You may creep
Into my head, for I can not command
The shadows of dreamland
Where passion unlocks
And girls lose
Their shoes
And socks …
The cup which
Touched your lips
Is chipped.
I know
It wasn’t so
When you took
The cup
To your lips.
We both drank tea.
But I did sup
From a separate cup
To thee.
Below are three humourous poems, and a couple of photographs taken by my friend Shanelle of my guide dog Trigger following a walk in the park.
Trigger smiling at the camera
Trigger beaming after his walk in the park
A very happy dog!
I have uploaded the following four poems to my Soundcloud.
For the walk that was never taken,
For the talk that was never talked,
For the ball never played,
For the one who stayed
Alone,
At home
Forsaken,
Who was to blame?
Love is a game
To some
And perhaps it matters not
For the sun
Is still hot
And the sky does remain
Suspended above
This game
Of love.
She takes off her t-shirt.
The trainers go,
And her legs also
She does show.
No flirt,
Just a messed up girl who
Loses sock and shoe
In order to train.
She kept
Her heels on
At his request.
They dallied.
She tallied,
Then was gone.
Noone wept.
The wind did pass
Through the grass
Where the lovers true
Walked and talked.
He helped her over the stile,
Which won for him a smile.
While the sun shone on,
And the wind continued to pass,
Though lad and lass
Had entered the field
Where the grain does yield
To the fickle sickle,
And is gone.
November or December,
I remember
Not.
The carpet rough on skins.
Some sins
I have forgot.
When a rhyming poet named Hogg
Wrote, “the dog sat on the log”,
A lover of free verse
Said, “your poems are no good.
Rhyme is out of date …”.
K Morris - Poet 