Andrew D Robertson
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Andrew D Robertson Poems
I Wish She Were Mine
As I watch closely, Expertly stalking my prey, She still amazes me.
I see her in the morning. I think of her in the night. And all the hours in between, She enslaves my very sight.
The swirling, twirling steam swirled up and up and up. My nose followed the scent and stretched down, down, down.
The rain, such a pain Please make it go away. The flooding; the mess; What did I do to deserve this?
Oh fog! Oh fog! What do I see? Nothing! Nothing! I can't even see me!
Hell Froze Over Today
You know the feeling When everything's going your way? I can describe that in just four words: Hell froze over today!
Today is September fourth. It's a perfect, beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly. A slight breeze is caught in the trees.
Time to go now, but not for good. Sleep is calling and so is food. Needing to clean, I run abound Till I find you on the ground.
The Power of Love
As I saw her laying there, I began to weep. Tears were flooding my face For a reason I could not explain.
Twenty years or more ago When I was just a boy, You came to me in a dream And filled my heart with joy.
As I looked upon her, the hourglass tipped And I knew my time was running out. I lay there, thinking of all the things I could've said, Somehow, missing the one thing I wished to say.
Love is blind. Love is hell. Yet, in the distance, I hear the chime of wedding bells.
The Stone of Judgment
Ten thousand years have gone Since the guarding of the stone. Many sordid battles were fought And all ended with scattered bones.
I was wandering down the street one day when my eyes fell upon the most exquisite sight: An angel was in the midst. She was gliding through a throng, oblivious to all the averting heads, and then she was gone. She may be gone, but her beauty and my wonder remain.
Comments about Andrew D Robertson
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I Wish She Were Mine
As I watch closely,
Expertly stalking my prey,
She still amazes me.
Her brilliant blue eyes are
Deep as the ocean floor and
As wide as the starry sky.
Her confident walk ablaze,
So stunning and rare,
Enchant all who gaze.
Her vivacious body,
So curvy and presise,
What a hottie!
She is simply devine!
If I could have one thing,
I'd wish she were mine.