I yawn
In the early morn.
A bark
Pierces the dark.
The carpet is warm
Against my bare
Feet. While out there
The fox’s word
Is heard
Ere I sleep.
Foxes
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Tag Archives: wildlife
A Summer Butterfly
A butterfly
On a
Sunny day
Flew by
My Labrador.
A snap of jaw.
And our summer chat
Of this and that.
All things must die
As the summer butterfly.
Death’s jaws will close
On man and rose.
You and I
Are but butterflies
Who love and laugh
And then must pass.
Sparrows In A Tree
A myriad sparrows singing
To me from a tree.
Their song
Bringing joy
To girl and boy.
I know not how long
My song
May be.
But sparrows in a tree,
Sang to me.
Birds in a Tree
In spring
I heard
Birds sing
With such ecstacy
In a tree,
As I did pass
Along the woodland path.
They sang not For me.
Yet it filled my heart,
And I almost forgot
My art
In their, unconscious poetry.
I Heard Birds
I heard birds
On a chilly
January day.
How silly
For you or I
To try
To interpret what they say,
For the song of birds,
Is beyond our poor words.
Dark Imaginings
When I heard
A bird
In a tree
Sing to me
In a park,
I thought that the dark
Imaginings I see,
May not come to be
Wednesday Humour
A beautiful young lady from France
Asked me whether I wished to dance.
As we started to waltz
I said, “are you false?”
She replied, “shush, just enjoy the dance!”.
—
When a naughty young lady called Samantha
Went to school with her panther
The teacher looked black
And said, “take it straight back,
I have no room for your panther!”.
A Fox In My Garden
A fox
In my garden, and me
In this elaborate box.
We call down a pox
On the hapless fox
For he
Is free
To kill
At will
The domestic rabbit.
While our own habit
Is to preserve the life of all
Is it not? Although
I recall
That twas man who did fall
From Paradise.
Adam and Eve
Grieve
Over the loss of their pet
And forget
That vice
Is a purely human quality.
Content
Walking home
The birds
Are content.
And me
For a while.
Woodland Glade
A beautiful butterfly
Flutters by
And a gentle breeze
Russles the leaves
Of fine old trees.
Where shadows dance
Couples may see,
By some lucky chance,
The otter wild and free
That dreams
In woodland streams.
Standing on the street
With dusty feet,
They gazed
Amazed
At the museum of yesteryear,
While far and near
Stretched the asphalt drear.
K Morris - Poet 