Denmark
http://www.panhumanism.com/letter_to_obama.php
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
http://www.panhumanism.com/letter_to_obama.php
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
FROST ON THE GRASS
It was a break frost meeting
On cannabis and Police informers.
No one came,
Only the Flower People,
Warm in bed,
Making peace and love.
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
And did a buggy seller fund it? They could not lose, whatever the result, as doting parents out of step with the findings would rush off to replace their existing buggy. Is this just another ploy to boost sales in a recession or am I just being cynical?
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
Anyway, managed to make the Station at Whitby on Sunday night on Shank’s pony. A good night with lots of people from all over, London, Lancashire, Barnsley as well as Whitby. Young Rupert from London is one to watch; a singer guitarist he performs traditional material in a vocally very inventive way as well as the odd self penned song. Unfortunately, he and his companion were only up for a week but he hopes to come back in the future, maybe Folk Week.
Off to Saltburn tonight, weather permitting, to find out what is happening to the copying of my new flute CD.
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
I was driving along the other day and got to thinking about the habit that has grown up in the UK of placing flowers by the roadside where a road traffic death has occured, something at one time only seen in Catholic countries where a roadside shrine was created for religious reasons. When I pulled into the car park at the end of my journey I wrote the poem that follows:
FLOWERS
They laid the flowers by the road,
A sign of sorrow, sympathy, respect.
They knew so little
There was little to forget.
And everyday, and everyday,
The people pass that way
And ask, “Who are the flowers for?”
And more and more the answers come,
“I do not know. I do not know.
I never knew.”
They laid the flowers by the road,
A sign of sorrow, sympathy, respect.
They knew so little
There was little to forget.
And in the dew of night
The plastic sparkles in the lights
And every night the people pass
And less and less
That question ask,
“Who were the flowers for?”
They laid the flowers by the road,
A sign of sorrow, sympathy, respect.
They knew so little
There was little to forget.
And as the wind and rain
Blow through the Wintertime
To Spring
And the birds to nest and sing,
There lies a dishevelled mound
That seems to some, at dusk,
A broken, human form
No one remembers
Which was never born.
They laid the flowers by the road,
A sign of sorrow, sympathy, respect.
They knew so little
There was little to forget.
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
My memory is that when I and Adam were lads the back to backs in Towns were covered with sparrows, and not a blade of grass or a bush in sight. People these days do not have a sense or knowledge of how things were, history. The real reason is that there are few desireable nesting sites available to sparrows. In the old days sparrows used to nest in great colonies in peoples’ tiled roofs there being plenty of access to scrabble under the old pantiles and broken slates. Now roofs are made to be completely sealed, no room for nesting sparrows. So, sparrows have to pick less well protected nesting sites, if they can find any. In the old days people and sparrows had a symbiotic relationship.
Modern roofing equals no sparrows.
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
Tony Morris, MC will be playing his Native American Style Flutes,
David Swann, your door host, will be playing his beautiful self-penned Folk songs.
BUT MAINLY YOURSELVES!
AND,OF COURSE,
FOLK WHO WANT TO JUST LISTEN ARE AN ESSENTIAL PART OF THE EVENING
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
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There’s a link to the Museum website from mine.
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com
In preparation for my new CD of music with an English Pastoral Theme played on Native American Style Flutes, I had ordered CD Mailers from a firm offering free 24 hour delivery. I waited in for them all Tuesday and rang the firm Wednesday as they had not not arrived. The Firm rang PDS, which is Parceline by another name, and got the reply that delivery had been refused. This was impossible as no one had come to the door. It meant that they had tried to deliver the box to the wrong house. Anyway, as I was going to York on Thursday I arranged to pick up the box from PDS depot. This turned out to be tucked away in an obscure corner of the Clifton Moor Industrial Estate. It took some finding I tell you. It was also fortified with a very narrow turnstile gate that caught the back of one’s heel as one went through. When I complained that this was a Health and Safety risk (I could have been lamed), the only response I got was,”Yes, that’s happened to me.” What sort of and answer is that? When I was given the box I was told that the driver had not been able to find the house, different from ‘delivery refused’. Getting the box out through the narrow turnstile was also a problem.
If you don’t laugh at the crass amateurism of these companies that are supposed to be providing a service one may go stark raving bonkers.
Tony Morris
www.tonymorrispoet.com