Daughter Of Drac (Fun Poem 103)
It was a night like any other
as we strolled under the full moon.
The trouble began when she went to give me a kiss,
her fangs protruded and she went for my neck.
I knew then I had more than I had bargained for.
I was dating the wrong girl;
I was dating the daughter of Drac.
I said lets just walk a bit further
we are nearly at my home.
We can kiss there all you want,
but no guarantees we will be alone
as my parents might be in.
She agreed reluctantly as she probably thought
she would get in an extra feed.
We walked slowly along under the full moon light.
I felt my hairs begin to itch
as they began to grow.
We reach my home and we went in.
Matilda had such a shock;
dad could not wait that night
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poem by David Harris
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My Name Is Reckless
My name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
I ignore all the honking horns
as I weave through the traffic
in the sports car I bought last week.
I’m the greatest driver
you ever want to meet.
You see my name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
No one can beat me
as I race down roads everywhere.
The speed limit
mean nothing to me,
that for only learners
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poem by David Harris
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A Girl Named Fred
Once upon a time not many years ago
a girl named Fred fell in love with a boy named Fran.
Although the names seemed an odd combination
and could easily be confused by people who did not know
that Fred was a girl and Fran was a boy.
They made the perfect couple as everyone agreed
and when their wedding day arrived,
the priest who was standing in
did not know about the names
only that he was marrying a Fred to a Fran.
Turning to Fran he said,
Fred with you take this woman
to be your lawful wedded wife.
Excuse me Father, but I think that should be husband.
The priest looked up a bit dismayed, but just carried on.
Turning to Fred said Fran will you take this man
to be your lawful wedded husband.
Excuse me Father, but I think that should wife.
The priest’ eyes rolled around in his head
very dazed and confused.
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poem by David Harris
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The Ghost
The yawning creak of the door
as ivy branches tap the windowpane,
dancing shadows from the candle
caught in a draught from beneath the door.
I sit in what is reputed to be a very haunted room
waiting to see a ghost no one has ever seen.
They’ve only heard the wailing
in the middle of the night.
Therefore, I’m sitting here
my imagination wanting to play tricks
on me as darkness falls.
I’ve come to help this lost wailing spirit
that seems bound to this room
and to help release it
into the heavenly light,
also to find its secret
why it is bound to this room.
The town clock chimes midnight.
I wait, but nothing happens.
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poem by David Harris
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Walking The Dog
It was Russ’s leaving day
and we waited for him to arrive.
Len suggested that Russ
was probably walking the dog.
Sandra was using Big Brother
trying to locate him on the internet,
but could only get a picture up of him
of when he was young and looked like Tony Blair.
Len again suggested that Russ
was probably walking the dog.
Terry was touching up
his three steps to heaven
that Russ could practice on
to get back his Arnie Sweatyknicker physic.
David was bagging up the off cuts of wood
in a black dustbin bag
and still the Popemobile had not arrived.
Sarah dropped in to say hello and goodbye
to the leaving soul and was surprised
that Russ had not arrived.
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poem by David Harris
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Attacked
Over the last week I have been attacked
by over eighty internet viruses
that even overcame my virus checker.
I lost all of my emails that had recently came in,
have had to reinstall some software
to get things going again.
It has been a nightmare week,
one of which I don’t want again.
It has stopped me doing things
I really wanted to get done,
put my life on hold for the week
and for what I wonder, so someone moron could get his kicks.
I shudder to think what goes through their mind.
I know it isn’t sanity that is for sure.
I spoke to a person whom told me
they would be lost without their computer.
I guess there is a lot of us like that who feel the same way.
All of us finding it strange
that people should act this way.
Not only do they put lives in danger
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poem by David Harris
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Two Strangers
In 1958, I last saw someone
whom would disappear from my life
until December 2006.
Our meeting was not face to face,
but across the internet.
Three cheers for technology.
She recognised me from an old school photo
it was not until I saw the class photo
after she pointed out herself
that I did recognise who she was.
For countless years you see,
I thought of her under a different name
which why I did not recognise her straight away.
The New Year came and we talked
about how our lives in the intervening years.
She introduced me to a friend
whom did the same thing as me - write.
At first, I was confused
and within our correspondence,
my confusion did show.
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poem by David Harris
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A Hairy Fairy
In life, there are things we never expect to see
and a very large hairy fairy
with Pancho Villa moustache is one of them.
This one flew into my garden and squashed all my roses
on his bad landing on that fateful day.
Every time he waved his supposedly magic wand,
everything went bottom up.
The roses he tried to mend
had their flowers in the ground
and their roots pointing skyward in the air.
It got that bad I had to replant everyone.
I shuddered to think what other magic
he might have up his sleeve.
The big hairy fairy dressed in a short Toto
spread out his wings to say goodbye and fly away.
He never got no more than three feet off the ground
before he again came crashing down
squashing all my tulips this time.
Enough is enough you’re ruining garden.
Do you realise all the hard work I have put in.
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poem by David Harris
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Rowing Your Way
He sat under a palm tree
serenading his lady fair
when a coconut dropped on his head
and he sat with a blank stare there.
She whispered sweet words of nothing,
but he couldn’t hear a thing
only somewhere in the distance
he head a cuckoo sing.
She garland him with pansies
and he looked a proper prat,
then a big bird came along
and deposited something on his hat
and as it run down on his chin
he thought his lady fair
had given a gooey kiss to him.
Then he opened up his eyes
and much to his surprise
he found himself in a cooking pot
and his lady fair was cooking him.
The vegetables floated on the water,
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poem by David Harris
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Dear Friend
For The Late Maurice Callard
Dear friend it has been a long time
since I last spoke to you.
Sadly, I will never get that chance again.
You are gone now,
sitting at God’s side.
While you were here,
you were my tutor,
my surrogate father and my friend.
I remember our first meeting
so very vividly.
You headed up a class of five
and the year was 1976.
For the next 17 years or so,
you became the lifeblood of me.
I remember how you patiently
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poem by David Harris
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