Deborah Ashdown Poems
|2.||The Homeless Man||2/20/2006|
|3.||Life Can Be?||2/22/2006|
|4.||How I Long||2/22/2006|
|5.||I Have No Regrets||2/23/2006|
|6.||My Bed-Room, My Play-Room||2/25/2006|
|9.||Not Enough Time||2/12/2006|
|12.||I Love You||2/12/2006|
|18.||My Friend Duncan||2/17/2006|
|22.||My Lost Love||2/14/2006|
|24.||My Magic Box||2/12/2006|
|25.||A Day Outside||2/13/2006|
|26.||I Hate You Daddy||2/12/2006|
|28.||My True Love||2/22/2006|
Comments about Deborah Ashdown
My True Love
When you're in pain, I will endure pain.
When you cry, I will perceive your sorrow.
When you're ill, I will restore your health.
When you're cold, I will be your insulation.
When you feel hunger, I will nourish you.
When you're weak, I will be your strength.
When you no longer breath, I will harbour your memory.
When you stray, I will forgive you.
When you shout, I will not rise to your holler.
When you want to be alone, I will permit you space.
When you no longer feel love, I will not blame you.
When you argue, I will not strike back.
When you no longer ...
The Homeless Man
Clothes are dirty, musty, too small and unfashionable.
Hair excessively long, infested, totally unmanageable.
Succulent he imbibes from his whiskey bottle.
Not a morsel insight, his hardened skin a pallid mottle.
He slouches uncomfortably, alone in his dismal doorway.
Abandonment of society, he feels he no longer belongs this day.
People with ignorance pass by without a second glance.
In this cruel, demoralised world, he doesn't stand a chance.