Biography of chris spurrell
I am a mum of 4 and write poetry because i enjoy it and love writing them.
chris spurrell's Works:
chris spurrell Poems
The Lonely Scarecrow
I stand in a field alone keeping watch The sun and the moon are my only clock In the morning and evening I'll always be there I never go off for a walk anywhere.
Out Of My Window
I look out of my window what do I see Why only the moon peeping down on me Gone are the trees they're nowhere in sight Everythings black except for the lights
The Passing Storm
The day begins full of peace but there's a storm brewing in the east Clouds that were white now turn to grey it going to be a stormy day Way up high in turbulent skies dark black clouds now float by Silver patterns light up the sky as lightining flashes all around
Night is approaching the light fades away Darkness is creeping to take over from day Out come the animals that hunt in the night The fox or the badger can give you a fright
The Man Of Our Times
Born in the yearof eighteen seventy four This great man was the son of a lord Well educated at Harrow and Sandhurst He joined the army on his twenty first
I Wish I Wish
I wish I was a bird flying high in the sky Swooping and soaring way up high Up and down mountains all on my own Then back to my nest where I've made my home
Storm On The Shore
The place I like to be on a stormy day Is down on the shore with a rolling sea The waves are so high they seem to touch the sky And the salty spray will sting your eyes
Away From It All
Away from the city I can't wait to be The hustle and bustle I want to be free Where people are stranger's in every day life To my home in the country where everything 's right
The fields are empty of wheat and corn A cold wind blows all looks forlorn The harvest is done the year is complete Now winter takes over while everything sleeps
The day of the caveman I wonder how it would be Rising in the sun in a world that was new Hunting animals with crude hand made spears And hunting in forests that have yet to be cleared
The tree is adorned with wonderful things Chocolate and candy and angels with wings Bright coloured lights on the branches so green With gold and silver baubles hanging in between
Song Of Summer
The sound of the birds this summer morn Singing so sweetly as they herald the dawn Their morning chorus sung for all to hear Can anything be sweeter for all our ears
Give To The Children
Give to the children a world that is free From all kinds of anger frustration and greed This world as it is now is no place to be Are your eyes open do you really see
Winter Is Here
From colours untold to winter white From hot sunny days to snow and ice From warm mellow evenings to an icy chill And long winter evenings we have to fill.
Shades Of Winter
The trees are all bare, there, s a chill in the air
The bright winter moon has a ghostly glow
As the slow evening mists roll into the valley below.
Distant trees show darkly through the mists
But a heavy hoar frost will whiten their branches.
And define all the spider webs hanging around
Into beautiful and natural art.
Frost on your windows make wonderful patterns
It's nature at work thats how it happens.