February Lamb

Today the grass and sky are shining
In perfect sunny hue
The land soaked clean by Winter's snow
And everything made new.

Today everyone is up and out
The breeze is bracing
Fresh and clean
The birds are busy in hedge and tree
While circling buzzards keen.

Remember this day of brand new life
Revealed from neath it's shroud
With it's promise of new beginnings
And mother of newborn proud

For March is round the corner
With temper hard and stern
Winter's ire has one last blast
Afore the seasons turn.

So when the gales and tempests roar
And the sky's fair face is marred
Remember the day you glimpsed this joy
And let is gladden your aching heart.



Written for my Niece, Dulcie "Hope"

Joe Morriss

Feb 2009

Beginning of March

There was a time when hope was in vain
It never ceased to freeze and rain
Sleet turned to ice and then back again

The barren womb of Winter lay
Forgotten by flower 
Untouched by sun's ray
The bare branch blew
Day after grey day

Then the season shifted
Certain changes came
The shelving of rich hearthside legends
The talk of many a muffled walk
Like the sap which surges through stem and stalk.

Like a sign of life
The sun shone that day
An emblem of the everlasting
Lambs leaping at your coming
The Lark signing its skyward longing.

With face as yet unseen
This spring-child comes
Yet we hear his heartbeat like distant drums
And though the hope of many dies
We face the day with faith filled eyes.

Joe Morriss

March 2008

Open Hearted Church

The ever open door

Now firmly closed

Against the rain, against the cold

Ornate, foreboding and set in stone

The gateway to safety,

Beautifully carved

Pleasing to the eye

But heavily barred.

There she lays

On the floor

Just skin and bone

Out in the rain
Exposed to the cold

Giving up hope and left all alone

At the gateway to safety,

Beautifully carved

Pleasing to the eye

But heavily barred.

Is there nothing more

Beyond that door

Than the priest with his crimson and gold?

What about sharing

What about the poor?

At the gateway to safety,

Beautifully carved

Pleasing to the eye

But heavily barred.

That's what we're here for

For those who roam

Who lay in the rain and the freezing cold

They need a welcome

And they need a home

Not a gateway to safety, that's beautifully carved...

But a church that will love and open its heart.

Joe Morriss

January 2010

Sunset

Silence surrounds the smouldering flame

As it sinks into a sea of burning turquoise.

Across the wide expanse it fans its rays

And on the horizon finds its poise.

A backdrop of burning blue

Scalded into coppery green

Coral clouds licked with crimson hue

Flecked with amber and golden sheen.

Jet trails sparkle and then fade into charcoal

Scoring the bold wash of pastel

While sulfurous wisps of yellow and grey

Hang superimposed then melt away.

Our ambitions and plans and excited thoughts

Hopes in the heat of the moment wrought

Like the cloud, they vanish to obscurity

Insignificant against life's bold reality.

Changing illumination renews its wonder

Causing each gilt edged feature to shine

The colours deepen into a molten splendour

While the fire intensifies as it dies.

As I wonder at this vast display

The subtle change takes my breath away

The expansive love of God's own heart

Requires reflection, not a fleeting glance.

The last light of the longest day fades

And the land withdraws into shadowy stillness

The embers smoulder and ebb away

As the first bright star rises into the velvety darkness.

The fire of life burns with youthful zeal

But passing glory soon loses its appeal

Eventually the darkness will come creeping in

But there is another light which shines within.

Still warm and graced by a gentle breeze

The dusky evening now slips by 

And the river winds its way with ease

While birds fly home across the western sky.

We all will come to that place in the west

Where at last we will find our rest

But far beyond the setting sun

Eternal day has just begun.

This earthly day has come to its close

No light in which to pass the hours

But just as the evening star arose

So shines a brighter sun than ours.

Joe Morriss

21st June 2010

Dedicated to the memory of Mr David Williams - a man with a heart for the next generation.

Side by Side

So Winter had its long complaint
We sat and waited while it rained
Cold, wet and bleak
When icy wind
Would blow and buffet unrestrained

Then came the time for Spring to break
"About time too!" was our refrain
But no, not so
The North wind returned
And brought more snow instead of rain.

So new shoots poke through
Just as planned
Quite despite the frosted land
New growth on trees
Despite the freeze
Boldly budding, if you please!

The world in white and cold disdain
Of all the sunshine trying in vain
Of flowers emerging from woodland floor
Nothing but mud and slush in the thaw

So springtime smiles at Winter's frown
Sun in the sky and snow on the ground
"Here we are just side by side"
Who should stay
Do you think they'll decide?

Joe Morriss

March 2013

The Whispering Bridge

The Whispering Bridge

The season turned and my heart filled with gladness;

“This will be a spring without sadness”

.

But the sky spoke of one more storm;

“Can I weather another?” I wondered,

And leaned back onto the warm stone.

The storm was over before it had begun,

And the sun shone.

While the water whispered eagerly under the bridge

I sat and listened to the stones,

Giving voice to the current;

“Peace”,

 said the river.

Joe Morriss

Flore, May 2014

Sunrise

Here I stand

Alone

save for the sentinel star

A silent witness of the breaking day

And of the receding of the dark.

The city is marked by twinkling lights

In the valley neath its shroud

With orange beads scattered across the remaining night

It rests and waits without a sound

Pale light creeps slowly over the horizon

And the fields turn from grey to green

The Lark is the first to call

As standing horses stir in their quiet stall

A gentle breeze blows fresh and true 

Wisps of white 'cross the virgin blue

Wafting scent of clammy crops 

As trees awake  with rustling tops,  shake off the morning dew . 

A blush of cockle-pink and yellow mixed

Shows above a band of dark damson

Dappled with grey

Scattered islands lonely drift on tepid sky

As if in an ocean far away

All is white light now

And a rush of birdsong announces the dawn

I turn to the East

As the day is gently born

Gathered and grey

Then suddenly lit from below

The expectant womb of cloud catches fire

As a blazing embryo emerges to climb higher

Then the sun swiftly shows his head

Rippling with molten gold

Rises through a furnace of cherry red

And with newborn zeal 

Takes his hold

All nature now takes its true colour

By the light of this bright child

Risen in splendour like a golden mirror

He spreads his crown over the exultant sky

These joys are mine eternal

A new day has begun

My faith has been rewarded

By the rising of the sun.

Joe Morriss

July 2010 

The Sea

"Sea", say it again!

Splashing, sun, soaring clouds, shining sea

And the sky...

Oh the blue, endless bright blue

Azure arch of the heavens

As if a golden gateway

Blue, blue blue

Unbroken, unmatched...sky high,

Seagulls fly!

Salty spray, ocean wide, flecked with white

As far as sight.

Rock ledge, lands edge

Brittle wedge of grey granite.

The pecking gull,

Snail spotting in the seaweed strewn pool

A moist, tender belly - upturned,

Withering noonday heat and webbed feet

Drying and dying.

The boat bobs benignly,

Just out of reach

Of the surf roaring onto the beach.

"Sea", say it again!

Summertime's soft sand on a lonely strand

Bees in the heather, warmer weather

Couples together

Walk hand in hand.

Joe Morriss

June 2004

Harvest of Souls

A field before me

Bright and gold

A harvest of souls

Rolling pasture

Number untold

My heart yearns to reach out

Reap the trust of these ones

Lost and hurting

But where to begin?

Stop them in the street

Under duress

Hard pressed

To tell them of this love within?

And by the field

Are two trees

One is barren

The other has leaves

Mistakes of the past

Over which one grieves

The other's blossom is a promise

Of continuing life and fruit to come

This is faith

Which can be believed upon.

Back in the yield

Poppies adorn the field

Scarlet and bright

Scars from the fight

But blood is thicker than water

And here is a deeper red flower

It speaks of a death

Of love, of power

A love for the lost

Counting the cost

Reaching and restoring.

And so my harvest is not great

One man in a million

I try, I cry, but it's getting late

What can I do but gather?

Fill both my hands

Hold what I can

And keep holding...  

Joe Morriss

August 2006

Autumn

There's goodness abounds at Autumn time

If only you know where to look

There's change and subtle beauty

In wood and field and brook

With golden leaves next copper bronze

And early evening's Blackbird songs

Acorn, nut and bright red berry

And fresh brown soil

Which makes the apple merry.

There's goodness abounds at Autumn time

If only you have time to wait

The mellow sun turns green to gold

And daisies dance around the gate.

Morning's dew in misty fields

and across the valley

The harvest bell peals.

Furrowed earth by tractor tilled

And every barn with grain is filled

There's goodness abounds at Autumn time

If only you don't mind the grey

The air's still warm and bonfires burn

And kids come out to play

The summer calf is fully grown

And all his grass is neatly mown

Leaf and branch

To the winds are thrown

The verdant Virginia creeper glows

Deep red with approaching age

Fallen fruit is mature and yellow

Like the hand which turns this season's page.

Joe Morriss

October 2006

The Lone Gull's Cry

The thundering sea

Cold cascading foam in tormented torrents

Runs in rivulets across jagged stone features

Grey granite edge

Dark dripping and forbidding

The cliff's jaw juts out in protest

Defiant and unforgiving

native birds around it cry

Wheeling and calling plaintively

To the barren sky

And in return from the rocks below

...No reply.

Timeless, the chafing tides

have coursed against this stubborn earth

Surging waves come relentlessly pounding in

Engulfing gullies with their crashing surf.

The sucking swell explores every rent and chasm

And retreats only to return in force

The sea pours in, satisfied that nothing is left unknown

Of this forsaken rocky facade

"Why me god?"

Why the jagged edge, the icy spray?

Why this remote and empty

Wind scoured bay?

The only answer to my cry for reprieve

Comes from a watery sky above the heath

....The lone Gull's cry.

Forlorn of flower or friendly face

"Why have you brought me to such a desolate place?"

The edge of the world

This shattered crust

Like the soul of a man

From whom love is thrust

Hard, unyielding, edged by stone

It stands against the ocean,

Vast, bleak and alone.

Joe Morriss

December 2008

The Working Man's Horizon

Every man has an horizon

The broad sweep of his apprehension

His habitat and the extent of his toil

Hard worked for land and landscape

Familiar ruts and dykes

Dug from his native soil.

Bounded by well walked woody lanes and hedgerows

Full of verdant texture and shape

With pretty worts and flowers

Of varying hue

Scattered round the fence and gate.

Secret animal tracks run here and there

Deserted by day, but at night a thoroughfare.

The sound of birdsong, sweet and true

Echoes through wood and treetop too,

Their song is a praise to God's restful busyness

A counterpoint to man's fruitless restlessness.

As I walk this well worn boundary

And make my way through the familiar yield

I feel the promise of familiar paths

The solid safety of the spacious field.

And with the hearts of all humble, working men

The desire to dream and hope again.

Joe Morriss

19th May 2010

Dog Rose

Dog rose rests in budded beauty

Waiting on the eve of summer's morn

When she will awake to sweet scented elderflower,

And see green June

With his rolling fields

And well watered, full bodied trees.

Blackbird makes her nest

Low in the hedgerow

Fussing about with dusty stick and stem

She chirps and chides

Ceaselessly calling the evening chimes

Ale fair

And fair festival in the village there,

The calf and his mother stand swishing

On a small plot of pasture

In the twighlight, feeding,

With steady gaze and shuffling hoof.

Hidden in the long grass

Suffering poppy shelters

Scorched by the noonday heat

She flutters in the evening breeze

And sheds her wilted, crimson leaves

Shire ponies gather round

Next the well trodden trough

The falling field gate,

Wood rubbed and thinly worn.

Lamb and yew look on contented,

And with the rose

Await the dawn

Joe Morriss

31st May 2010

Chasing Shadows

You are helpless in your struggles

And your anger rises fast

Each day the sickness grows within

As you hold onto the past

You fought hard to build my kingdom

And you say that it's not fair

That others who just sat and watched

Are just as welcome there.

But I can soothe your bitter thoughts

And calm your angry fears

If you'll look up from your bloody mess

And cry those gentle tears.

So tell me all about it

Before you turn and walk away

Before all that's left

Is your broken heart

As night turns into day.

The sun will rise to greet you

If you'll only turn and see

Then you won't be chasing shadows,

You'll be following where I lead.

Joe Morriss

February 2013

Reflection on helplessness and failure after trying to "do more" to please God in the face of apparent defeat.

Winds of Change

The winds are blowing through again

Changing the season as it comes to an end

Four winds blow...

Strong North, Soothing South, Howling West, and Bitter East.

The winds are blowing through again

The undercurrent of a shifting climate

The trees stir into life from their long summer's rest

And whisper of the coming rain

Soon to stand stripped, bleak and bare,

They show a final parade of beauty and flare

Of colour and fuller reds and golds

Than any king or queen could wear.

Spring has gently sung its soothing song

And Summer blazed and breathed its hot breath

All day long, and parched the green earth.

While Winter waited.

Now Autumn blows and blows, and the leaves fall.

The grey clouds race by in the November sky

And melancholy moods are caught up

And tossed and whirled down wet drains,

And left to straggle the bedraggled lanes.

Even so,

My heart is moved by the wind,

It's the sound of hope as something new rushes in

And even though,

In this season we will see decay,

The new earth is only a few breaths away.

Joe Morriss

4th November 2010