David Darbyshire Poems

The tree tops are Dead
and so are the Roots
It's the rain they Dread
also the Shoots
...

I don't want to talk to you any more
because you threw the chocolates on the floor
You should really apologize
You won't, you animalize
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To sit in your favorite chair
For hours without a care
Newspaper, Slippers and a Tea
This is the life for me...........
...

I've lived in Amsterdam for quite a While
and I have found it has it's own Style
If you have an Umbrella
Your a real lucky Fella
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As I lie in my Bed
All these poems run through my Head
I should get up and write them down, Instead
I go back to Bed
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Two wheels and a Seat
Peddles beneath my Feet
Hands on the bars, ringing my Bell
He jumped out the way, into a hole I Fell
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It's Monday Morning's I do 'Hate'
I always, always arrive to work Late
Nice would be if they deleted Monday's forever
That would be a dream come true and Clever
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Blue Jeans with no Patches
Arsine with no Matches
Group Hug in a Burns Clinic
A Priest who is a Cynic
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I Would stop the world Turning,
If I Could
Just to make the People,
Stop and Think
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Tiyler Durden
Is not such a Burden
Please do not Moan
Or even Groan
...