Biography of David Taylor
Born, Baby, Child, Adolescent, Student, Employee, Husband, Self Employed, Father, Father, Father, Divorcee, Husband, Father...and throughout all that I'm me!
David Taylor Poems
Racism a nasty word that conjures thoughts of oppressive deeds made by man because
Because You'Re Beautiful
Because you’re Beautiful This poem’s addressed To you Because you’re beautiful
Memories Of The Beach
We went to the beach to get wind in our hair to stand on the sand and simply to stare. To let the surf tickle toes and dampen our clothes as we played 'run away'
Blue sky yesterday Grey today Did the blue sky Go away?
Love, Love, Love, Love, Love Without A ...
How do you write a poem about Love? It cannot be caught and is beyond words’
Light is the breaking of dawn Light is the load when you are just born Light is a place without any fear Light is when your lover is near
A Life Well Lived
I sat and I watched as a flower gently unfolded I sat and I watched as it blossomed with gold reaching out from its centre its beauty was told.
The distant tanker will soon fall off the horizon of life, now blurred by the haze of distance and then swallowed by the roundness that hides our future. The trawlers float across the bay then, behind the headland,
A Little Love Poem...
I dreamed a little dream of you; too small a dream to contain all the ways you reach out to me, too short to encompass your eternity,
Beauty, Beautious, Beautiful
Beauty is not a superficial form Each has their own in essential nature And in the actions they perform Until the dissolution of their life
What mysteries does this keyboard hold or the artists' pallet strewn with unformed colour our life a sheet of parchment waits our thoughts and deeds
That One Far Shining Light Of Lights
That One far shining light of lights Which lights the eyes of everyone. That One far shining light of lights
A Cold Night
A snowy icy night, painted hill tops all are white, all the rivers flow like ice, and raindrops fall as hail, from so very, very high, above. Whispered breath, a smoky kind of grey,
am I : I am : reflecting who : who reflecting :
Dance For Joy
The clouds are a skimming
Over the tops of the trees.
The birds are all chirping
Announcing a dawn symphony.
The world is a turning
In a heaven that’s spinning.
The traffic is moving
In a flow that’s confusing.
And heads are all nodding