My dog has no conception
Of my introspection
As he rolls on grass
In dying August.
I think on the past
While he takes pleasure
In the sweet summer weather.
Knowledge can be a fearful thing.
I know my spring
Has long passed.
Yet my friend makes me smile
For a brief while
As unaware that all things pass
He enjoys the grass.
Crows core on a cold day.
My hair is long since grey.
These autumn leaves
Will not stay.
These fallen leaves
On the cold January ground
Send a message profound.
I am bound
To be as these leaves
And fertilize the ground.
A January breeze
Whispers through trees
And winter grasses
And, as it passes
It speaks to me
Of my mortality.
“Janus” appears in my collection “More Poetic Meanderings”, which was published in 2023:
Janus waits in the wings.
As with previous dead years
He will bring
Laughter and tears.
Doors open and close.
The futurologist thinks he knows
What the future holds.
But Janus thumbs his nose,
And history goes
On as before;
And where it goes
Heaven only knows.
On a day
In late November
A cold autumn breeze
Rustles through the trees
Seeming to say,
“A freezing December
Is on its way”.
My dog (still young)
Enjoys these fallen leaves
Flung across pavements
By Winter’s breeze,
Where they lie
As he and I
Pass by
On a December day.
On this cold December Evening
My thoughts turn to leaving.
Though I can not fight
The inevitable night
I can write,
Which gives me some pleasure
In this passing weather.
And words may dance on
When poets are gone.
Winter’s last blast
Sighs and dies
In a rhyme
Of passing springtime.
A simple rhyme
About the springtime
And hours
Amidst flowers
Where sweet love grows
And the rose goes
K Morris - Poet 