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(18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

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The rocking chair squeaks,
as it rocks to and fro.
An old man is dreaming,
of yesterdays many years ago.
He dreams of the woman,
who’d one day be his wife.
He sees how things used to be,
when he was a lad.
Reflects on the changes,
that have come and gone.
The peace and the quiet,
shattered by the society of busy feet.
The countryside that disappears,
at an alarming rate,
as developers seal each acres fate.
Gone is the fresh air,
everyone one used to breath.
Now clogged with fumes,
of petrol and diesel.
Oh, yesteryears,
where have you gone?
Lost to the winds,
like a small bird’s song.

7 Sept.1995

Submitted: Thursday, January 18, 2007
Edited: Wednesday, July 06, 2011

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Comments about this poem (A Blank Canvas by David Harris )

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  • Duncan Wyllie (3/24/2007 11:09:00 AM)

    This is just one of the reasons why your poetry is worth reading, stunning work here my friend, take care
    Love duncan X

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  • Andrew mark Wilkinson (3/11/2007 9:23:00 AM)

    Times where always better then, or so our minds tell us my friend... david...8

  • Melvina Germain (1/19/2007 10:21:00 AM)

    Beautiful David, makes one sit and think of days gone by. Thankyou David------Melvina---

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