David Taylor Poems

You really are the same?
Laughing, hurting, dreaming, sleeping
Drinking, eating, kissing, excreting
You really are the same?
...

Well I have a story to tell, today
About a feeling, come what may
I have been writing, day by day
Building up, to be able to, just say
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I just realised something surprising
I realised that I am residing
In the heart of all I see
I just realised as I was eating
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Leaning on a lamp post
Watching all the world go by
Commuters are rampaging
Going for the 6.25
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Wisdom, is it wise to want
Wisdom, cannot be bought
Wisdom, is it ever caught
Wisdom, does it grow on trees
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Death why are you oft’ portrayed
As some grim reaper leading to a grave
In fertile fields reaping is a time
That is a culmination of growing all that’s fine
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i have a dream
or a dream dreams me
i have hope
a hope that is for me
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Spring cleaning time is here
at least it is in the northern hemisphere;
if half the globe is cleaned
in March April May it seems,
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I will write with the quill of an ostrich
with ink from a tiger tooth well
to the sound of elephants' ivory
as I dance in my calf hide shoes.
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Nurtured by the words of the wise
with each rain dropp calling His name
in an infinite shower of love
the lotus blossom gently unfolds
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