David Harris

Gold Star - 4,611 Points (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

David Harris Poems

721. Hard Done By 12/20/2008
722. Hoped To Meet 12/20/2008
723. A Gathering 12/23/2008
724. Wondering 12/24/2008
725. Eternal Love 12/24/2008
726. Every Step Of The Way 12/29/2008
727. Will I Look Again 12/29/2008
728. Little Things 2 12/29/2008
729. Two Kinds Of Women 12/29/2008
730. Little Bird 12/29/2008
731. Holiday 12/29/2008
732. I Feel Like Singing 12/30/2008
733. Curling Waters 12/30/2008
734. Reunion 12/30/2008
735. Everything Has A Story 12/30/2008
736. A Path To Follow 12/30/2008
737. A Mirror Image 12/30/2008
738. Teardropp On A Rose 12/30/2008
739. Lying Blue Eyes 12/30/2008
740. Monuments 12/30/2008
741. Hidden Within 12/30/2008
742. Some Places 12/30/2008
743. Relaxing 12/30/2008
744. Days 12/30/2008
745. Fruits Of My Labours 12/30/2008
746. From Your Past Somewhere 12/31/2008
747. Eternity 12/31/2008
748. Daily Trials 12/31/2008
749. A Prisoner 12/31/2008
750. Plots 12/31/2008
751. Whispers 12/31/2008
752. Sitting On The Veranda 12/31/2008
753. Self-Mocking 12/31/2008
754. Never Spare A Thought 12/31/2008
755. Pen In Hand 12/31/2008
756. A Story Of Murder 12/31/2008
757. Frightened 12/31/2008
758. Highjacked 12/31/2008
759. Night Hunter 12/31/2008
760. From A Castle Wall 12/31/2008
Best Poem of David Harris

Respect

If we can not respect another
How can we expect them to respect us
If we can not respect someone’s beliefs
How can we expect them to respect ours
If we can not respect another’s race
How can we expect that race to respect us
If we can not respect others
How can we expect respect in return

Everyone expects respect
No matter who they are
The only way to gain it
Is to start treating everyone
As a friend, a brother, a sister
As part of our extended family
No matter what colour or creed they are
Only then you will start to get
The respect you so ...

Read the full of Respect

Faded Love Letters

An old shoe box under the bed,
filled with mementoes of years gone by.
Faded love letters stained with tears,
I used to cry.
They tell of the joy I knew one spring,
of laughter and fears.
And of the love we said would remain,
throughout our growing years.
The spring is gone and so are you;

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