I really like to write Poems, I find it a nice release, and I like all the nice coments and Fellow Poets on this site. I think it is great, you all make me feel like a poet, I want to thank you all for that.
Loven Kisses to All Dave, Amsterdam Holland
And a Big canadian Hug more »
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David Darbyshire Poems
Fear of You Fear of Me Fear of Others Fear you cannot See
Black cats, blue cats white cats, grey cats Round and thin, stray cats Tall and short, they come in all sorts
The tree tops are Dead and so are the Roots It's the rain they Dread also the Shoots
The Men go out and Hunt for Food Women stay home and make there Brood Then the men come back in a good Mood Only to get, both ears Chewed! !
As I lie in my bed
As I lie in my Bed All these poems run through my Head I should get up and write them down, Instead I go back to Bed
A Blind Friend
I have a blind Friend He's called Ronny Ron's very Clever We play Backgammon
I've lived in Amsterdam for quite a While and I have found it has it's own Style If you have an Umbrella Your a real lucky Fella
One ear Up One ear Down And a smile With half a Frown
Man Oh Man............. You know your getting old When ya really feel the cold A shivering little mass
Little Horny Angel
In the heaven above was a little horny Angel Now this Angel had been naughty, very naughty And was going to be sent down to earth as a penalty The angel would have to stay until it had learned it's lesson
I never went to school, I havn't read many books. I don't try to be cool, get lots of funny looks.
Bad Report Card
Not being the smartest at school, report cards made me feel like a fool. The report was full of D's, F's, and E's, my parents, I just couldn't please!
Today is the Day
So you think, today might be the day It might be, it might be not? Depends on your luck, if it goes your way or you could get caught?
The star's moon and the sea My baby say's she Loves me I will give them all to You She loves me it's true
(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)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Fear of You
Fear of Me
Fear of Others
Fear you cannot See
You cannot 'smell' Fear
Or 'taste' Fear
You can't 'hear' Fear
Also not 'touch' Fear
Everyone 'Feels' Fear
How is this Possible?
When you cannot:
Touch, Smell, Taste or Hear
I have a fear of not knowing the Answer