The Spoken Word
The spoken word takes many forms
in its hunger to be written down
translating itself through many minds
as it reaches out in many voices
until it eventually grasps the glory
and wears the eternal crown.
25 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Thank You To A Special Friend
If everyone had a friend like you,
no one in this world
would ever be blue.
With the sunshine from your heart,
you can brighten up
even the saddest soul.
So my thanks
I am sending to you
for being a special friend to me.
poem by David Harris
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Waltz Of A Lifetime
When love comes around
it is not always perfect,
sometimes it drags you down,
into the depths of despair.
Then a love comes around,
the best we have ever had,
this is the time,
we start to dance,
the waltz of a lifetime.
poem by David Harris
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Rules
We live our lives by rules,
not ones of the governments,
or of what our religion teaches.
We might borrow from both,
but they are our rules,
made of our own volition,
and rules that we live our lives by.
14 November 2012
poem by David Harris
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Where Have they Gone
Where have they gone,
all the friends of yesterday?
Where have they gone,
the happy times I used to know?
Like the setting sun
which calls to close the day.
They have to each direction,
gone, gone far away
30 April 1982
poem by David Harris
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In The Shade Near Evening Time
As I sat in the quiet garden
at the back of our hotel,
the scent of flowers
drifted through the air
by a cooling breeze,
surrounding me with fragrance
as I sat on a park bench
in the shade near evening time.
26 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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Three Words Or Is It Five Words?
Those three little words you say,
I love you,
brings a face full of smiles,
and happiness to my world.
However, those five words you say,
I don’t want you anymore,
brings eyes full of tears,
and sorrow, sadness and fears
poem by David Harris
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Ode to a Bumble Bee
I sat and watched a little bumble bee
as he dashed from flower to flower,
collecting pollen here and there,
then he would fly off to his hive somewhere,
to help produce more honey.
That busy little bumble bee.
(7 July 2007)
poem by David Harris
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Andy’s Influenza
For my good friend
Andrew mark Wilkinson
Her body is ripe to explore
with kisses from head to toe,
and all the sensual curves there.
I had better not write anymore
because Andy’s influenza
is fogging up my computer screen.
poem by David Harris
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Embers Still Glow
Some fires still burn
long after the flames have died;
their embers still glow
after the years have flown.
It only takes a spark
to ignite an old flame
from the vault of our memories
and make love bloom again.
12 July 2012
poem by David Harris
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