David Wood

Gold Star - 11,951 Points (07 April 1950 / London)

David Wood Poems

1. Fishing 3/25/2013
2. The Gower 3/25/2013
3. Dead Of Winter 3/25/2013
4. Butterfly Dawn 3/25/2013
5. Loves Last Letter 3/25/2013
6. Self Portrate 3/25/2013
7. The Copper Beech 3/25/2013
8. Otter Delights 3/25/2013
9. Day In The Life Of A Bee 3/25/2013
10. Red Kite Hunting 3/25/2013
11. Swansea Marina 3/25/2013
12. The Float 3/25/2013
13. Tina 3/25/2013
14. Christmas Alone 3/25/2013
15. Winter On The Farm 3/25/2013
16. Winter Song 3/25/2013
17. Time Immortal 3/25/2013
18. Hope Springs Eternal 3/25/2013
19. Flower Song 3/25/2013
20. Loves Red Rose 3/25/2013
21. Life's Dreams 3/25/2013
22. For Keats 3/25/2013
23. Death 3/25/2013
24. A Blackbird In Oxwich Wood 3/25/2013
25. Our World 3/25/2013
26. Alone On The Streets 3/25/2013
27. The Artist 3/26/2013
28. Days 3/26/2013
29. Hard Times 3/26/2013
30. January Frosts 3/26/2013
31. Moonlight 3/26/2013
32. Moonwalking 3/26/2013
33. New Day 3/26/2013
34. On Line Dating 3/26/2013
35. Romeo 3/26/2013
36. Swansea Bay 3/26/2013
37. Sweet Valentine 3/26/2013
38. Wanting 3/26/2013
39. Whispers 3/26/2013
40. Clouds 3/26/2013
Best Poem of David Wood

Bluebells

Bluebells carpet the woodland floor
Packed so tightly that insects tip-toe
Softly and quietly between them.
Their beauty unlocks a woodland door

With such colour of delicate blue,
And a fragrance that is heaven sent.
They droop their heads in the spring rain,
With their beauty making all things new.

Their magic weaves a pleasant spell
A sea of blue that meanders in the breeze
And floats delicately over the forest floor,
Their fragrance creates a delicate smell.

Nature now has all its beauty brought
To the fore before summer casts its ...

Read the full of Bluebells

Dead Of Winter

White feathery frosts of ice on grass
And trees. Heavy frigid breaths do pass,
With blustery icy cold wind on your face.
Damp paths and wet cold roads trace
A pattern and icicles hang from gutters.

Mist swirls around wispy folds unwinds
And forms cold clumps of foggy binds
Like some super glue in low lying lands,

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