David Wood Poems

I cannot reach the apple on the tree
It is always too high for me.
I can never write that perfect poem
It always eludes me no matter how
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Oh for a starry, starry night
Heavenly lights burning bright
Shining forth their sheer delight
Oh behold what a wonderful sight.
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The day casts a long shadow,
Time passes all too slowly.
Scratches on the door, paw prints
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Friendship is measured
By the silence between words
That don't need saying
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Love is the rising glow of sunrise

That soft droplet of morning dew
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The dictator's mind decides it must
Bomb a country until it's dust.

He thinks he has the mental clout,
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Wild wind, that moving spirit
Crossing oceans, deserts and plains
Where all hear it, and so many fear it.
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Every so often you hear a song
From the past that reawakens
Soft sweet memories.
And you want to hear it again.
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A tired autumn slowly surrenders
To a virulent winter with the strike
Of winters hammer on its cold anvil.
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Blind Jack plays sorrowful tunes in the street
On his old accordion so battered
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