David Harris Poems

Smiling faces beam of summer warmth
Greeting of jokes and cordial words
Handshakes from outstretched hands
Kisses from pursed lips of pretty faces
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The world is filled with short people,
who forget there are tall people like me.
For when they build a door of six foot,
they forget all about the poor old persons,
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Nothing can right a wrong we’ve done
What is done can not be reversed
No matter how hard we want to try
Every time we play the game of love
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Suburban streets filled with baseball hats
People living in suburban flats
Cobweb shops filled with queues
People rushing round wearing out shoes
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The words just flee from my head,
to the paper in front of me.
They tell of love and sorrows be.
They also tell of other things.
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He rode is gallant steed
the sun reflecting off his breastplate.
He rode into the dragon’s den
to rid his precious homeland
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For Betty Burton
A friend for over thirty years.
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Professor Robert Hogarth sat
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Down on the Funny Farm
where some say I was born
where laughter is the key
that trips a smile
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Everyday we face choices
in every aspect of our lives;
some are little things,
like what clothes to wear.
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