jim foulk (july 7,1943 / des moines iowa)
Poems of jim foulk
|21.||By the Woods one day||12/19/2006|
|22.||Cell Phone Mania||1/19/2007|
|24.||Childhood Faded Away||1/15/2007|
|25.||Christmas time is here||12/17/2006|
|26.||Colors of Autumn||1/31/2007|
|28.||Death Touching Me||4/18/2007|
|29.||Decline of Life||4/5/2007|
|31.||Dreams We Had||4/9/2007|
|33.||Drops Of Poetry||3/15/2007|
|37.||First Robin of Spring||3/15/2007|
|38.||Fountain of Your Heart||4/22/2007|
|39.||Frog For a Day||4/9/2007|
Poems are part of me
Poems are part of me, until
I become part of them.
I have to write, what I hear, see and feel.
When poems are written, the world shall stop
and listen to what was said,
as a poet, I hope it's not a flop.
When ever I die, the poem will live on,
always read, always praised,
long after I'm gone.