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Poetry

	David Harris
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David Harris, 16 december 2011

A Christmas Poem

Christmas is once more with us
with mistletoe and good cheer,
stocking hung on the mantle place
and presents under the tree.
People singing Christmas carols
entertaining you and me,
as Santa with his reindeer
landing on each house in sight.
Beaming and giggly faces
of children too excited to sleep,
with Christmas day tomorrow
they cannot wait for the sight.
Slowly drifting into dreams
of what might greet their eyes bright
as they listen for Santa’s reindeers
prancing along in the snow.
As sleep descends,
they wait for the morning light,
for Christmas is that time of year
when the world seems merry and right,
and so ends my Christmas poem.
Merry Christmas to all and goodnight.

17 December 2010

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David Harris, 15 november 2011

A Rose With A Tinted Past

A wind from the North Country
blows through the tapestry of my mind.
Like flowers in the wind,
I sway like a silver birch.
Winging high I soar though the sky,
a bird of tell tale feather below.
Ah, a rose with a tinted past
a tear of dew on each new petal.
Shadow of sky I see
a big yellow eye that warns me
Spring has fallen by the way side
Summer warms each small bed
sleep eluded the dreamers head
days hark of summer sandwich paste
eaten down in gulps of haste
gone are the winter winds
replaced by summers warm rays.

Ah, our rose with a tinted past
born out of a refuse tip,
born with buds pointing skyward high
to catch the sun through a cloudy sky.
Born with an anojistic air
the dark clouds of heaven see you there.
Rain dances on your petals blight.
Sky thunder roars
storm of shadows pass overhead
wind of tears, tears and shreds,
the petals from our roses head.
Sky of blue, no clouds of night
looks down at the sorry sight,
head limp, beauty gone
sadness of glory light
no longer see the sunlight.
Petals sweet, insect head
food for nature’s bed.
Earth dust shower still
life is short to fulfil
day - night passes a solemn breath
for our tinted rose’s death.

13 June 1978

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David Harris, 12 march 2012

The Last Barrier

On angel wings, I fly so high
like a little bird up in the sky.
No, body no more to anchor me
to an earth full of misery.
My mind is at peace at last
no worries for my brow to crease.
The last barrier has been passed
a new existence in front of me.
Regrets for wrongs done
have vanished from a heavy heart.
Gone are all the yesterdays
that haunted and held me,
now like the little bird I am free
to fly away from what held
my soul in captivity.
Now that I have crossed the last barrier.

4 March 2012

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David Harris, 23 november 2011

Fascinating Figures In A Flickering Candle Light

The candle flickering
throws fascinating figures
to dance across the walls.
Silhouettes that move
in opulent rhythms,
which are hidden, from our ears.
Fascinating figures that capture
all our imagination can see,
dancing on a faint breeze
that wafts the candle flame
in jubilant games
into the darkened night.
We sit mesmerized by it all
as the silhouettes dance
and sway across the walls,
brought to life by
the flickering candle light.

23 November 2011

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David Harris, 9 december 2011

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Other poems: Love, The Last Barrier, Quiet, A Christmas Poem, Loneliest Time Of The Year, The Stars Remain, Vulnerable, Hinkle, Finkle And Fee, Fascinating Figures In A Flickering Candle Light, Fields Of Fantasy, A Rose With A Tinted Past, All Over Again, Tracks We Leave Behind, Clouds Across The Moon, A Traveller Of The Roads,

Latest items:

Poetry

A Christmas Poem

A Rose With A Tinted Past

The Last Barrier

Fascinating Figures In A Flickering Candle Light

The Stars Remain

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