Biography of PATRICIA DOBROSIPEARSON
Born in Sacramento, CA
Mother: Georgia Pamela Williamson
Father: Kenneth Ray Pearson
Sister: Lori Lee Pearson Cord
Children: Anthony Gomez Dobrosi, Tibor Taylor Dobrosi, Elisabeth Klariska Dobrosi
Graduated: Cordova High School 1984
Married: 1985 to Tibor Laszlo Dobrosi
Divorced: December 20th,2000
Married: 2006 to David Eugene Hannaford
Divorced: July 4th,2009
Hobbies: Painting, Freelance Writing, Poetry, Guitar
Ambitions: Crush Politics, Abolish Ignorance, and Lift the Down Trodden.
Favorite Color: Green
Favorite Numbers: 14,27
Blood Type: o Negative
Title of Grandmother Granted: 2009
Suedonym: Jane Doze
Websites: www.janedoze.wetpaint.com, www.myspace.com/hannafordpatricia
Religion: Catholic (although, the Priest won't call me back!) LOL
PATRICIA DOBROSIPEARSON Poems
A Jewish Wedding
Jane Doze - A Jewish Wedding By JaneDoze
The Girl Who Cried Wolf
Hi, I'm Jane Doze and I have a story for you... The Girl Who Cried Wolf
Jane Doze - Missing Fingers By Jane Doze
Well....... Jane Said! ! ! !
Hi, I am Jane Doze and I have a story for you… Well, Jane Said
Hi I'm Jane Doze and I have a story to tell you.... My favorite times were with my sister. She was such a great sidekick.
How My Sister Got So Smart
Hi I'm Jane Doze and I have a story to tell you. How My Sister Got So Smart
Daddy Long Legs
Daddy Long Legs By Jane Doze
BUBBLES WRINKLED LIKE A PRUNE MY DEAR IN THE AFTERNOON BUBBLES GOING DOWN.
GYPSY GRACE Hey I loved you the only way I could I loved you with a loyal truth
A True Test Of Heart
A True Test of Heart An Angel from above screamed to those below 'Make way, make way for the falling.' It is a long way down.
Conrad Buchanan Conrad She is coming down. You can not stop her. She cries for the city to make way for the falling.
Tied To Nancy
A POETRY RIDDLE Tied To Nancy Drown by a broken woman
Firminting In My Oak Barrel
Firminting in my oak barrel drunk by drunks and connoisseurs only made by special brewers
Voltaire's White Bull
And she read to the saints and spoke to her lord and played her instruments and sang in chord
Walking With George
I can hear the echo of your paws clammering against the concrete.
The bell rings but I cannot see any children recess.
Then you chase the squirrel up the tree.
You are definitely a hunting dog.
This time you seem more able to exersise your body.
Not over winded, drooling with exhaustion.
I no longer have to drag you by the leash.
I heard the sound of music playing.