Standing under this rain drenched tree
I hear the breeze
That rustles the leaves
Whisper to me.
Then, a sneeze,
Brings me back to reality.
Standing Under This Rain Drenched Tree
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Tag Archives: trees
The English Oak
When Brexit has been and gone
The English oak will live on
And continue to provide sanctuary
Under it’s all-embracing shade
To lad and maid
Of every race. For a tree
Does not discriminate, or hate.
A view from Poet Kevin Morris’ window
This video was taken by my friend Shanelle by my window earlier this evening.
This Tree
This tree
In the churchyard
With it’s gnarled bark
Will outlast me.
This thought, to some stark
Comforts me
For my heart
Is part
Of this self-same tree.
Bark Rubbings
Close to the end of the woodland path,
Shortly before you join the thoroughfare,
There
I ran my hands across the tree.
It’s rough bark kindled in me
A child’s wish to an impression make
Of that tree, and to take
It away with me.
Had I crayons, perhaps I would have captured that bark
On pristine
Paper, creating a clean
Bark rubbing
Leaving the tree as before.
Yet as I stood
Close to the edge of that wood
I thought how one can neither restore
Nor rub away
Yesterday.
K Morris Reading His Poem “Trees”
Me reading my poem “Trees”:
A conker I found
A conker I found
On the ground.
Still in it’s prickly clothes,
Yet to be disclosed.
“I aught
To leave you here” I thought.
“You may, for all I know
Grow into a great tree”.
But another voice in me
Said “some other will take you away, if I leave you here on the grass
For many people here pass”.
So I took you home
As my own.
On my sill
You sit, waiting to spill
Your seed.
Was it need
Or greed
That made the virile
Sterile.
Would that I could
Get to the root
Of this drying fruit.
Tree
Oh tree at the edge of the park,
Oh warm imperfection of bark,
You where here ‘Ere I came,
And when I am gone, you shall remain.
Death and Rebirth.3.
These dry
Leaves do not die.
They become one with the earth.
A derth
Of green
Is seen,
Then a rebirth,
The old, in the new
Takes root
And does heavenwards shute.
The past, present and future one may see
In the mighty tree,
While you and me
Pass by
With a sigh
As we ponder on our mortality.
The Girl And The Oak
A girl passing through the wood
For a moment stood
Under an ancient oak.
The tree spoke.
“I have seen kingdoms rise and fall
And my branches have decked many a bridal hall.
But kings and lovers are all now dead”.
She heard not the words said
For earplugs fed
Pop music into her head.
Taking a knife she carved, “Lucy loves Tom”
Then, without a backward glance, she was gone.
K Morris - Poet 