On a September day
I kicked a stick away.
That branch once danced
In the soft spring air.
Now I, with no care
Kick it along the forest floor
For it will dance no more
And eventually decay
I smile today
But in time will find decay.
I found 2 conkers in my desk drawer.
I could return them to the forest floor
Where they would rot and be one
With fruits and flowers long since gone.
Autumn is in the air,
Yet I do not care
To return them to the ground.
A thought, perhaps profound,
We are all bound
To join Mother Nature’s great store
When we, as leaves fall
And become as one
With generations long gone.
Conkers may be put away
In a drawer.
But Autumn’s fall
Says all things must decay.
The leaves lie thicker on the path
Than the last time I passed.
I can not count them.
But, like we men
All leaves fall
And rhymes
End
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.
Lost in thought
I walk
Through the evening wood.
Then I see
My shadow beside me.
In inner talk
I failed to see
The wood’s beauty
And my whirling words
Drowned out the birds.
My tomorrow may not come.
Yet the sun
Shines through the trees
And there is beauty
In these shadows and birdsong.
A summer rain falls.
And birds sing.
The earth smells fresh.
But I recall
I have bills to pay.
Yet returning home
To my working day
I carry birdsong
And the rich earth
In my heart.
Nature’s art
Feeds my poetry.
Yet she
Outshines all poetry.
Caught up in our nightmares
Of what may, or may not occur,
We forget the beautiful sunset
And that the earth in the wood
Smells good when wet.
Living in fear
We fail to hear
When birds sing.
Our spring
Is so brief.
Nightmare’s teeth
Pierce our hearts.
Yet we have art
And nature’s beauty
Ere we depart
Into that sleep
Where we are unaware
Of beauty or nightmare.
Walking home in the pouring rain
I pondered on AI
And those who continue to maintain
The inevitability of progress.
The rain continued to fall.
Although I heard
No human word
Nature seemed to laugh
As I passed
Along the familiar churchyard path.
I am conscious of the breeze
In the trees
As the vehicles pass me by.
Back at my flat
I go to my open window
And hear the eternal breeze
Passing through the trees.
I awoke to rain today.
I will walk where water drips
From spring leaves and flowers
For time slips away
And all our little hours
Are brief as butterflies,
Who flit by without a sigh.
K Morris - Poet 