Gordon Whittaker

Gordon Whittaker Poems

I took a snapshot of my little tot
then gently lifted her out of her cot
she was like a feather in my arms,
and oh how I fell for those baby charms.

You can count on me to hold my tongue
I will never ever do you wrong.

No-one can ever call me a liar,

Ron, you were to me all a brother could be,
your friendship and memory will always be a part of me. The happy days we spent together are gone, forever lost in time,
but the memories will linger, they will always be mine.
When I was young you used to take me to the flicks, on our way home you would buy me fish and chips, and Ron the times you fixed my tie for school

She will care for you throughout your life.
She cooks, washes and irons your clothes,
and does a thousand other chores.

Bush and Blair, oh what a pair
they have brought the world
to the edge of despair.
The battles were decisively won

She walked towards me down our street
my fluttering heart missed a beat
My throat went dry I felt oh so shy
and my knees began to knock

Hey, I kissed the teacher three times on the cheeks,
But damn it, I gotta wait another fifty two weeks.

Yea, I gotta wait so long I swear……………

I had a date, but in the rain I let her wait.
She was a ravenous beautiful creature,
deserving of me, for I had caught her eye.
The thought of her waiting especially for me


Mother you left us eleven years ago
we were all so saddened to see you go.

War is a battle one cannot win.
Win or lose you are committing a sin
In war there are no victorious winners.
The participating parties are the sinners

The youth of today but not all I may say,
have no integrity or moral principles.

They have no qualms about who they insult

Mr Bush why the rush to bomb Irak
do you dream about those words attack attack attack

Stop and think about the innocents and the newborn

He is my best friend
a pal on who I can depend.
We are always together,
I love him in a funny sort of way

Along came the plane
It was not flying low
Waiting to release its lethal load.
On unsuspecting people below.

She lay safe in my arms
her eyes closed in sleep,
I gazed at her beautiful features
to me they are certainly unique.

Three little letters a simple anagram of raw,
but the outcome is Death Devastation, Sorrow.
For the thousands of innocents massacred,
there is no tomorrow.

Gazing through the window at the rain
I wondered from where the rain came.
Then a voice said to me ‘It’s sucked up from the sea,
or do you believe that old wives tale that it is angels wee.

Oh what a web of deceit
world leaders do weave.
The words they say they would
have us believe.

Gordon Whittaker Biography

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The Best Poem Of Gordon Whittaker

The Bullying Game

I took a snapshot of my little tot
then gently lifted her out of her cot
she was like a feather in my arms,
and oh how I fell for those baby charms.

Those small delicate fingers
and screwed up tiny toes,
the aroma of a newborn baby,
her beautiful wrinkled nose.

Now fifteen years further on,
life is certainly not the same.
My girl comes home from school
with her head hung down in shame.

Today once more she’s been the victim
of the bullying game.
Tears welled up in her beautiful blue eyes
Mum I can’t take this madness anymore she cries.

I’m going to end it once and for all, she said
It’s now a year this bullying has gone on,
believe me Mum I have sometimes wished
That I was dead..

Those words filled her Mum with fright,
she went to the bathroom and removed
all the pills to a safer place that evening.
Foreboding gripped her heart, that night.

She went lots of times to her daughter’s
bedroom to see if she was okay.
She stayed awake all of the night.
awaiting the dawn of a new day.

The new day came, her daughter arrived
home but not hanging her head in shame,
she came in the room no tears were shed.
Later she ate her tea and retired to bed.

The next day mum rang her teacher to ask
about her daughter, “ well yesterday she taught those
bullies a lesson “said the teacher, “I’ll say no
more but all three of them ended up on the floor.”

Mum replaced the phone, with a feeling of disbelief,
a weight was of her shoulders, she felt only relief.
She no longer felt down and blue, she hoped and prayed that
What she had heard was true.

Then she remembered the book in her daughters room
last week, and smiled to herself as she took a peek.
The title was “ Learn the art of self-defence, master Jujitsu.”
My little tot in the cot, she certainly has grown up a lot.
Mum burst into a fit of uncontrolable sobbing and laughter,
she later settled down, became more peaceful and mild,
she now knew she was'nt going to lose her beloved child.

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