Andy Brookes

Gold Star - 35,921 Points (11 May 1954 / Macclesfield)

Andy Brookes Poems

361. End Game 1/5/2017
362. The Box 1/5/2017
363. Losing Lights Light That Lights The Way 1/6/2017
364. New Year Reminder (C W T M) 1/7/2017
365. Eight Morning Skeches In Vauguly Haiku Form 1/10/2017
366. Winter's Soul In Rome 1/11/2017
367. The Show Must Go On 1/13/2017
368. Snow Fall On Wild Boar Clough (A Memory Of Childhood) 1/13/2017
369. And And And 1/13/2017
370. Bearing Crosses Crossing Words Got Crossed 1/13/2017
371. Geisha Hours 1/13/2017
372. Act One 1/15/2017
373. Dawkins Talkin' 1/15/2017
374. The Space Between 1/15/2017
375. No Remnants Will Remain 1/15/2017
376. A Merciless Meritocracy 1/16/2017
377. Last Laugh Loudly 1/16/2017
378. Text Subtext And Cold Coffee 1/17/2017
379. Baking Day 1/17/2017
380. White Thorn 1/17/2017
381. An Afternoon With Ms Benedict And Freud Et Al 1/18/2017
382. Catholic Chants Causing Chaos 1/18/2017
383. Echos Of Emily For Judith Blatherwick 1/19/2017
384. Mines, Craters And Strange Bent Paths 1/20/2017
385. Puddled Poet Poodles Painfully Perambulating Penance 1/20/2017
386. Finding First Fruits 1/20/2017
387. Heads Above The Parapet Or Siege Warfare 1/20/2017
388. Hard Labours Mostly Making Horseshoes 1/21/2017
389. Futile Fleeing From Further Failing 1/21/2017
390. Vacuum 1/22/2017
391. Fleas 1/22/2017
392. Unconscious Consequences Conceived Collisions 1/23/2017
393. Sorties Into Strange Society 1/23/2017
394. Garden Grandeur Endures Endearingly 1/23/2017
395. Better The Book You Know 1/24/2017
396. Wither She Commands 1/24/2017
397. Crow The Wind Blows 1/24/2017
398. Crazy Concrete Contrasts Coexist 1/25/2017
399. The Chrysalis Opens 1/25/2017
400. Standing Men Of Iron 1/25/2017

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Best Poem of Andy Brookes

I'm Only Human

I work my fingers to the bone,
And I know I shouldn't moan.
Not get upset about my work,
If criticised by some jerk.

It's sad to say, my skin is thin,
Tough exterior, soft within.
I try so not to let it hurt,
When hit by a poem expert.

I know I have a lot to learn,
But cruel remarks, they just burn.
And you know I have no fear,
Of ever becoming like Shakespeare.

I write just whims, airy fancies,
Which people stab with their lances.
With their thrusts they put me down,
Making me feel like a clown.

But be it good or be it ...

Read the full of I'm Only Human

Blue Monarch

She's washing dishes in the sink
where soapy bubbles float.
Her rubber gloves are edged in mink
and ermine trimmed her coat.

Her crown is tidily packed away
Her cloth of gold removed.
Though all alone she feels so gay
Her temper much improved.

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