Book by Kevin Morris printed

Rhyme is pleased to announce to its readers that Kevin Morris’ new collection of poetry “My Old Clock I Wind” is now avaliable both in print and electronic formats. Here’s our interview with Kevin.

Readers from the UK can meet the poet live at a public reading of his new book on
Wednesday 5th July at 6.30 pm.

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The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
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I Think I Like You Better Now

I think I like you better now; it’s been a little while
Since first you took my breath away with just a passing smile.
When love was fresh and new and fast, before life took its toll –
I think I like you better now, with weathered heart and soul.

I think I like you better now than when it just was us,
Before the babies came with all their love and joy and fuss,
When it was husband, wife, alone, who shared each long night through.
I think I like our love stretched thin, for more than me and you.

I think I like you better now, a little gray and worn,
A little tired, weary, from the burdens we have borne,
But ready with a smile and touch that leaves me breathless, still –
I think I like you better now; I think I always will.

Amy Foreman

Rhyme is pleased to introduce another great modern poet who writes in rhyme. Amy Foreman hails from the southern Arizona desert, where she homesteads with her husband and home schools her seven children. Her poetry has been featured in publications and websites including The Society of Classical Poets, Utmost Poetry, and The Epoch Times. To read more of her poetry, visit her blog.

A Psalm of Life

What the heart of the young man said to the Psalmist

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
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Hymn

At morn – at noon – at twilight dim –
Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!
In joy and woe – in good and ill –
Mother of God, be with me still!
When the hours flew brightly by,
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee;
Now, when storms of Fate o’ercast
Darkly my Present and my Past,
Let my Future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine!

Edgar Allan Poe