David Threadgold Poems

Ornate carvings inlaid wood
Gilded handles as it should
Standing proud and looking good
Tooled with skill as craftsmen could
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How many words
Does it take to make rhyme
There’s no set amount
But it can take some time
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Flashing lights and neon signs
Pollute the darkest night
By lighting up the cubby holes
Where shadows go to fight
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Things I’ve seen through tired eyes
Some look bad its no surprise
From a distance far away
Lots were closer where they stay
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I’ve said it before
No broccoli trees
The thought of the green stuff
Go weak at the knees
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May you ever lie on silken sheets?
For your pillow a fluffy white cloud
Hear the music I send from my minstrels
Playing softly for you not to loud
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Logs thrown at trees
Some thought we were bonkers
But every year
We were out collecting conkers
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I hear no evil
The devil words said
Never will those
Get within-side my head
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Someone is knocking
Its old uncle Sid
Getting some splinters
From his oak coffin lid
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Bats in the belfry
Vampires at rest
Waiting for nightfall
The time they like best
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