Biography of Angela Wybrow
I now live in Hampshire, UK. I have been writing poetry on and off for many years and really enjoy it. I love writing about a variety of topics and am hoping that there's something for everyone.
My first collection of work, entitled 'Through My Eyes' is now available, published by United Press at the price of £3.99 plus P&P. If you would like a copy, please contact me via my Facebook page (Angela Wybrow - Writer) .
I have a Facebook page dedicated to my poetry - so please 'Like' me on Facebook!
Angela Wybrow's Works:
Through My Eyes - United Press (2011)
A Magical Menagerie (2012)
Angela Wybrow Poems
A Headful Of Thoughts
I'm lying here, wide awake Trying hard to get some sleep; But my brain is totally buzzing, So it's useless counting sheep!
The Missing Sock
This afternoon, I had quite a big shock: I discovered that I have a missing sock! I put my socks inside the washing machine, But now one sock is nowhere to be seen.
Hot Air Balloon
I saw a hot air balloon flying over my house: Most of the time, it was as quiet as a mouse, But, every so often, its burners suddenly roared, And higher, up into the sky, it suddenly soared.
My Favourite Things
I love lots of things in life. By many things, I'm cheered. By the time you've read the following list, you may think I'm a bit weird!
The Colours Of My Life
You’ve brightened up my life With colours bold and bright. Black and white and grey, They graced my every day.
A Spring Morning
The sky is the shade of cornflower blue; The clouds in the sky, are extremely few. Caught by the sunshine, everything glows. A fresh, cooling breeze, now gently blows.
I’m stood here on the platform; I’m holding my mother’s hand. There are things that are going on - Things that I don’t understand.
A new life, for myself, I need to weave. I need some oxygen, so as I can breathe. From these chains, I need to break free; I need the chance just to be totally me.
This town is becoming like a ghost town; Many of our local shops are closing down. Once upon a time, this town was really hopping, But now people go elsewhere for their shopping.
The autumn leaves swirl to the ground in their millions. Gold, russet, ochre, burnt umber, and deep vermillion. Down to the ground, the dying leaves flit and flutter; On to the grassy bank, the pathway, and into the gutter.
On a gnarled piece on driftwood, This plump little bird is silently sat. It looks at me, then back at the river; It looks all around, this way and that.
Grey Skies In July
We are now well in to the month of July, But above my head, there's a leaden sky. For days on end, it has constantly rained, And I must say that it's a right old pain.
Spring: New Beginnings
I have always loved the heralding of spring, When the spell of youth is cast upon everything. Gardens everywhere awaken from their sleep, As the sun, from behind the clouds, does peep.
I Wish I Were A Chocolatier
I wish a were a chocolatier; To folk I'd bring some age-old cheer. I'd play around with all different flavours, And decide on some for people to savour.
This is the tale of a young girl named Ella,
Who spied out the window a less fortunate fella.
She saw him there, sat down on a seat,
With no where to go and nothing to eat.
The scene she saw was far less than pretty,
And, on the poor soul, her young heart took pity.
She was inside, feeling cosy and warm -
‘A plate full of food would go down a storm, '