The promise

He promised you fruit

You gave it your all

You dug in deep and hit bedrock soil

For the second or maybe third time

The harder the storms the deeper the roots

So what became of all your toil?

Bury me

By the old walnut tree

That was your creed

You lived through the years

Thrown up by that seed

But what's left to dig?

30 maybe 40 summers

Who was counting?

Eternity in the blossom

Heaven in the branches

But the devil knows how to kill

Bringing deathly chill

Uprooted

Ripped up

Every shovelful

Thrown back in your face

Come back round the paddock

Well find you that place

Dig around the stones

And bury you by the old walnut tree

If it's still there.

Joe Morriss 2016

If there's a way

Do you want to known by me

To be seen and be heard?

Do you want to be loved by me?

Just say the word.

Any little thing for you

To be followed and served.

Do you want to be king for me

Is that so absurd?

Yes I want to be close to you

To have and to hold

I want to be there for you

So rugged and bold

There's nothing I wouldn't dare to do

I just need to be told

The queen of my heart you'll be

Even as we grow old.

So if there's a time for us

Made perfect by grace

And if there's a place for us

To meet face to face

A kingdom of love and trust

Just show me the way

I'll pray God for both of us

To be there today.

Joe Morriss
May 2019

Paradise lost

These heady days of balmy breeze

The ocean waves and swaying trees

The pure white sand and Crystal blue

If only what we saw was true . 

These days of hardship nights of tears,  enough to make the strongest fear 

The tropic heat that burns my skin

The dusty streets of shanty tin

These barefoot crowds with shifting eyes

Remind me that we peddled lies

And left them in their run down city

While preachers taught them grace and pity

So children cry to the crescent moon

And look around an empty room

We stuff ourselves to overfed

While all they crave is daily bread

And all around black poverty

Serves the whim of white luxury

I wish that we were truly free

To create a world of harmony

So many fly from lands afar

To bask in the heat of proud Africa.

But when they've spent their plundered gold

They leave this paradise lost and cold .

Joe Morriss

Mombasa , Kenya 2019

Circles broken

A circle unbroken

Joined hands welcome more

Her childhood friends in days of yore

Where sunfilled eyes

And pretty dresses

Begged no disguise

With flowing tresses

She laughed and sang

The playful round

Loves sweetest pang

Her joyful sound

As a girl she was

The apples eye

No need to rest

Till lullaby

The heart of God

Neath blissful sky

No need to ask

Or question why

But circles cease to spin

And hands that held grow thin

And endings come

Where they once begin

The shoulder tossed

And tear brimmed eye

Where trustt is lost

In the long goodbye

The tresses fall

and curl and die

The dresses torn

Loves heart belie

The circle trod now stands alone

And every heart has flitted home

Yet here she stands

That little girl

With every pleat

And every curl

No more to dance

Play hand to hand

And laughter fades

On summers strand

The hours of night A restless heart

The names of those who must depart

Called out into the voiceless dark

Where only hope and angels hark

The circle turns

And flowers grow

Where once the friends she used to know

Played happily every summers day

Before their dear ones went away.

So hold her hand and whisper love

Dry the tear, let  memory stay

Reach out your hands to god above

And circles joined will turn again.

Joe inspired 19.1.19