David Harris (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)
Biography of David Harris
I was born in England, but raised in Canada until I was fourteen. I came back to England where I now reside.
I started writing seriously at eighteen, firstly with songs, then drifted into writing poetry, short stories and finally novels. About six or seven year ago I gave up writing all together. It has only since joining PH in January 2007 that I started writing again thanks for the encouragement I received from a lot friends up here.
In 2006 I was awarded an Outstanding Achievement Award from the International Society Of Poets for my poem Faded Love Letters. The first award I have ever received for any of my writing. The poem has now been include in several anthologies including one on CD. I awarded the same award for a second year in 2007
I am at the moment waiting on tender hooks hoping that my Literary Agent can sell my latest novel for me.
I also belong to a western re-enactment group, hence my nickname Dodgy Dave the Vicar. You will find some of the crazy things I get up to under Dodgy Dave Tales by JoJo Bean, my official PH biographer and good friend.
Recently I began a collaborating with JoJo Bean and Meggie Gultiano under the title of JoJo Bean, Dodgy Dave and Meggie Gultiano. Although each of us are friends and live thousands of miles away from one another we have managed to transcend the miles to work in perfect harmony with one another.
David Harris's Works:
Just Beyond The Sunset and other poems
published by lulu.com Available now from Barnes & Noble, Amazon and other bookshops.
Pussy Footin' (A volume of childrens short stories)
published by lulu.com and available in Internet shops.
- A Australian Rose
- A Baby With His Whiskers On (Fun Poem 11...
- A Band Of Roaming Gypsies
- A Beauty
- A Better Life
- A Big Kid At Heart
- A Big Softie
- A Bit Of A Hack
- A Bit Of A Laugh
- A Bit Of Both
- A Bit Of Paper
- A Bit of Past Lost (Tribute to Phil Ever...
- A Bitter Tear
- A Blank Canvas
Faded Love Letters
An old shoe box under the bed,
filled with mementoes of years gone by.
Faded love letters stained with tears,
I used to cry.
They tell of the joy I knew one spring,
of laughter and fears.
And of the love we said would remain,
throughout our growing years.
The spring is gone and so are you;