David Harris Poems

To many the number thirteen
is a number to avoid and beware of,
add Friday in front of the number,
and you have a very scary day.
...

Even a tall person to a short person,
their problems I can relate,
tall people bump into low hanging doors,
while short people cannot reach shelves too high.
...

Goals are something we set ourselves,
each and everyday.
Sometimes we reach them,
other times we won’t.
...

I stood on a sandy beach
on an April weekend.
The sun was shining bright
on each wave
...

I find myself on a slippery slope,
heading for a bottomless pit.
My heart has given up,
on what it longed for.
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In the field where flowers grow,
the dead lay buried far below.
The war they fought is over now.
Peace may they find at last,
...

Two crows spied a piece of bread
Both landed beside it on the ground
They started to squabble over it
As neither wanted to share
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Blossom fills the trees with colour,
birds sing in the treetop high,
the sun bathes the world with warmth
and brightens up the sky.
...

The old house stood in silence,
no one lives there anymore.
Only memories of the past,
fill each empty room.
...

An old windmill stands on a hill;
it once stood proud
as the wind swept round its sails.
Now deserted,
...