Early Works - Gone Is Summer
The green leaves
are turning red and brown
now autumn is here
they fall to the ground.
Gone is the summer
all the laughter
and fun we had
down by the sea - sad.
The weather
turning windy and cold
autumn is here
and gone is the summer.
Date unknown
poem by David Harris
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Hills
Everyday we climb hills
real and imaginary.
Some are steep
and hard to climb,
others are gentle
and there we take our time.
However, whatever hill we climb,
it is always easier
once we’ve reached the top
and come down the other side
23 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Never Knowing
Everyday we meet strangers
all the time never knowing
if one of them
will one day no longer be a stranger,
but become a new friend.
Someone who will stand beside us
when troubles rise
and who will walk with us
until our troubles subside.
3 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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Free And Easy
If life was free and easy
what would we have to moan about,
and if we didn’t moan
what would we talk about.
Conversation would dry up
day after day.
What a boring world it would be,
if we couldn’t moan
about something now and then.
31 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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As Time Does Pass
There are things we do
that are not funny at the time,
but as time moves on
and we re-examine them.
What a silly sod we were
and the incident that almost had
us pulling our hair out
had become something rather hilarious
as time does pass.
12 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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Lens Of Life
We look at life through different angles
trying always to get the best shot.
Some times the camera lens is dirty
and a fuzzy picture is all you get.
We clean the lens and take another shot,
hoping for a better picture,
one without regret.
7 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Early Works - Desert
A blazing sun
a desert sky
watery haze
staggering figure
thirst for water
no where seen
spirals round
decreasing circles fall
buzzards wing
shades the sun
quiet is lonely
desolate place
lingering shadows
cast by white bones grave.
24 October 1979
poem by David Harris
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The Mountains That We Climb
As we grow older,
the mountains we climb
get harder everyday
than when we were young.
Still we climb them,
as our work is never done.
Our bones may be brittle,
our bodies almost worn out,
but our brain is still active,
so we carry on.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Early Works - Dreams Impossible
The scented perfume of spring
entering every nook and cranny
the serenade of birds winging high
sends music to everyone around
of love and joyful things
they say to us are bound.
So why do we search the skies
for dreams impossible to share?
Date unknown
poem by David Harris
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Pick Me Up
You are my pick me up
when the world gets me down,
the ray of sunshine,
which can reverse any frown.
You embody the word love,
and everything it means.
You are mine forever,
what more can anyone want,
because you are my pick me up
for whenever I am down.
poem by David Harris
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