Tag Archives: the environment

A view from Poet Kevin Morris’ window

This video was taken by my friend Shanelle by my window earlier this evening.

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Out of Place

I would
That this forest,
This little wood
In which I trace
The seasons slow pace
Could remain
The same.

Spring
Summer, autumn and winter does bring
A natural order to this changing thing
Which alters not, save in accordance with nature’s law.

The woodland floor
Is now with leaves strewn
But soon
Winter’s chill
Will
Lay an icey hand
Upon this land.

Yet it is not as before
As the forest floor
Is strewn with leaves in summers overly hot
For man has forgot
The natural order of things
And his action brings
The leaves too early down.

The town
It flows towards the countryside.
The urban tide
May rise
And sweep
That which I would keep
Away.

The planners say
“The people must have somewhere to stay.
We must build a little on the greenbelt
Where once the owl dwelt
In solitude.
We can not exclude
The young who need their own home”.

The squire has long since gone
And progress marches on.
There is nothing to hold
Dear but gold
And we are told
That we should “embrace
This marketplace
In all things, while the stupid left speak of an equality
Which can never be
For in this world of tears, we can not be
Both equal and free.

Sometimes I look back with nostalgia to the squire
And half desire
Him to rise
From his grave
And the country save
From this tide
Of progress
Where left and right contend
Over who can best defend
This sterile world of high tech screens,
While country scenes
Are lost, save in dreams.

Sun

Children play
On another hot day,
Their faces
Carrying traces
Of yet another icecream.

As girls pass by
Displaying sunkissed thigh
And young men dream
But not of icecream
I think on
The tinder dry
Heather
And wonder whether
We are too far gone

Why Did I My Window Close?

Why did I my window close?
The wind blows.
I
Will die
So why
Be shy
Of this fresh air
That takes away my care?

I awoke
To crows.
Nature spoke
Once more. Who knows
Why man goes
On as before?

Greenbelt

I go out
Before the multitude is about
And walk in the wood
Where the air is good
And there are no words
Save for the birds
Who’s song, though not for man
Can set him free
Of desire. So is it for me
As I simply be
Amongst bird and tree.

Then the din
Sets in.
Not of human shout,
Although there are houses here about
That skirt the wood. I here the cry
Of the young in search of homes to call their own.
It is contended that we must sacrifice some green spaces
To accommodate the young’s need for places
To live. But if the Green Belt is no longer sacrosanct
What scant
Greenery will stay
When the planners have had their way?

I doubt this wood will go
Though other spots of green
Now seen
Will turn black
Under tarmac
And some will notice the lack
When the rats race
Where there was once a green place.

Perhaps I am being unfair
For Darren and Claire
And there 2.5 kids need somewhere
To live.
But will their children give
Thanks to mum and dad when there
Is less green
To be seen
Than was previously the case
And nature’s face
Is converted into neat little garden rows.
Who knows?
Not I
But for now I have tree and sky.

There Is A Kind Of Conservatism

There is a kind of conservatism that has little or nought to do
With politics, but which runs through
Many a man, who will say
“I like it this way
For it has always been so.
I know
That the horizon seems bright,
But there is pleasure in the scent of these roses
Here and now in this night garden.
Other posies
May brighten some dreamed of day
But here I would stay
Surrounded by these well trodden garden paths
And the laughter of friends
Who are ends in themselves.

Such a man weeps to see
The ancient tree
Cut down, for it is more than a mere tree,
It is he.

Such a one is often inarticulate.
Of an evening late
When others speak of utopia he gazes at the starry sky
And wonders why
These others are not content
With god’s great tent.

Else he takes refuge in books, for the sheer pleasure he derives
From reading, and derides
Those who pour over dreary
Theory and take pride in attacking every institution.
He is inclined to defend the constitution
And although charitable is sceptical of wholesale redistribution.

You will find such a man in every walk
Of life and when you talk
With him he may say
“I am not in the conservative way”
As he strokes the cat, purring by an open fire,
Fulfilling his only desire

Poems Inspired By The Great North Wood

Great North Wood, London, UK

Several of my poems have been inspired by the Great North Wood, one of the remnents of which is some 2-3 minutes walk from my home, http://www.wildlondon.org.uk/great-north-wood. I have spent many hours walking my dogs in Spa Woods, which form part of The Lawns, https://www.croydon.gov.uk/leisure/parksandopenspaces/parksatoz/the-lawns.

This afternoon I came across several volunteers from The Great North Wood/The Friends of Spa Woods engaged in conservation. A bonfire was going and invasive plants (laurel introduced in the Victorian era) was in the process of being removed to prevent it from stifling the growth of native flora.

The wonderful thing about The Lawns is that it was left to the local community and it is maintained by volunteers, who do excellent work to ensure that it remains a real oasis, which can be enjoyed by dog walkers and anyone in search of a little peace and tranquillity.

Below are examples of those poems of mine which have been influenced by my proximity to (and connection with) The Great North Wood:

The Path Through The Woods – https://newauthoronline.com/2017/04/03/k-morris-reading-his-poem-the-path-through-the-woods/
Wood In The Rain – https://rhymepoetry.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/wood-in-the-rain/
Owl – https://newauthoronline.com/2016/07/17/owl-2/
An Owl Hunting – https://newauthoronline.com/2016/03/31/an-owl-hunting/