sylvia spencer

Rookie - 0 Points (24 12 43 / woolwich london)

sylvia spencer Poems

1. Lord Of The Night 6/21/2006
2. Any Offers 7/18/2006
3. A Tall Story Part Two 8/21/2006
4. A Touch Of Remorse 4/21/2006
5. The Tale Of Mr Pong 3/6/2006
6. Silent Screen Revisited 3/15/2006
7. Reviewing The Situation 3/20/2006
8. The Great Smell Hunt 4/6/2006
9. A Trip On Safari 4/10/2006
10. Pure Spring 4/19/2006
11. What Comes After 2/22/2006
12. The Wreck Of She 2/26/2006
13. Start At The Beginning 9/15/2006
14. Crumbling Chalk 11/17/2006
15. A Crafty Blackbird 4/22/2007
16. A Friend To The End 8/25/2007
17. A Man Made Of Straw 11/3/2007
18. A Memory 7/16/2008
19. A Donkey Tale 11/6/2007
20. Cat Flu 8/21/2007
21. As Often Fades 11/5/2006
22. As Wild As The Poppy 9/11/2006
23. Two Flags To War 2/26/2006
24. Plight Of A Stray 4/18/2006
25. The Scourge Of The North Sea 4/20/2006
26. Strangers 4/11/2006
27. Dreams 4/6/2006
28. Old Wifes Riddles 4/2/2006
29. Everyone Loves A Limerick 3/27/2006
30. Hidden Within Weeds 4/2/2006
31. Our Red White And Blue 3/15/2006
32. The Trench 3/10/2006
33. The Nightly Noises 3/3/2006
34. The Heart Remembers 2/24/2006
35. Beacon Light 4/3/2006
36. December 12/2/2006
37. A Blackbird 4/22/2007
38. Christmas Cards 12/20/2006
39. A Feeding Frenzy 4/10/2006
40. Great Grannies Cottage 3/26/2006

Comments about sylvia spencer

  • Devika (8/23/2019 6:03:00 AM)

    Happy Endings beautiful poem.

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  • Scarlett Treat (8/9/2007 2:42:00 PM)

    If there is ANYONE at all on this site who can find fun in the stinky side of life, then Sylvia it is! ! It doesn't matter what subject she chooses, whether it is her cat, Mr. Pong, the neighbor's name it, and Miss Rosie can find the fun in it. But that is not all she writes about. She finds the joy in a beautiful day,
    the love she shares with others, just life itself. She is so much fun to know, and I treasure her friendship so very much! Scarlett

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  • Vra Parody (9/29/2006 9:12:00 PM)

    one of the better writers at poem hunter...better than pretentious people who write incomprehensible crap...

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  • Kee Thampi (9/13/2006 12:40:00 AM)

    All great writes are really posed to in its simplicity and in its vivid colours of depictions. A travel to own past life of lyrics and lovely nature - driving to a unknown splurgely mad loves....Poet also makes new homely experiments with her own verses...

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  • Lisa Wilkinson (6/2/2006 5:49:00 PM)

    Sylvia has a great young sense of humour and is full of praise and encouragement for others. Her poems are varied and I do love Macafee the cat poem so if you have time read it. Its called The cat who came to tea. Bravo Sylv.x

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  • Michael Shepherd (4/27/2006 11:02:00 AM)

    Sylvia, your poetry is unique, sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry or manage both at once - so it's really good that you're going to be published so that others can enjoy you being you! Best wishes, Michael

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  • Janice M Pickett (3/30/2005 2:58:00 PM)

    Sylvia. I love your style. You are a really sweet person. Your poems are a picture of your character.


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  • Mary Nagy (3/21/2005 1:03:00 PM)

    Thank you for your comments on my 'old-age' poem...Of course I don't feel I am old, this poem was written with tonque in cheek...I am feeling older....but not old of course. My life gets better with each year so truly I enjoy the aging process more than most would think. Sincerely, Mary

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Best Poem of sylvia spencer

The Cat That Came To Tea

There was once a cat called
Trouble-some Mac'fee,
who had a bad habit,
of inviting himself to tea.
When the clock struck four,
he would tap on the door,
meow and scrach,
then lift up the latch.
He never had a thought,
for dear Aunt Mable,
because he would rush right in,
and jump straight on the table.
He would steal a cake,
from of the plate,
then run back through the door,
and out of the gate.
Mac-fee Mac-fee,
always there for tea.
Now Mac-fee played a game
called, hide n seek.
At one time he went missing,
for over a...

Read the full of The Cat That Came To Tea

Death Of A Cabin Boy

The dream I had was fierce and strong yet somehow I knew
I did not belong; on a ship that was lost at sea where the waves
were so high that they almost drowned me. As the storm blew in the
men held fast then down to the deck came her mast. The Captain
tried to steer her west but the ship was being held back,
by a fierce tempest. You could hear her creak againts the tide
as her hulk rolled from side to side. Only one of us was safe
from harm, but who that was left ere calm.
The Cabin bo

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