David Wood

Rookie - 347 Points (07 April 1950 / London)

David Wood Poems

1. Bluebells 5/9/2013
2. 1914 4/12/2013
3. Memories 1/9/2014
4. Sonnet 88: Trees 12/16/2013
5. Cherry Tree 8/27/2013
6. Mirror 4/26/2013
7. Of Golden Leaves 9/16/2013
8. Ode To The Golden Daffodil 4/24/2013
9. Autumn 10/11/2013
10. Missing You 4/28/2013
11. Hope 5/10/2013
12. The Girl With The Pearl Earring 8/2/2013
13. Sunset 4/15/2013
14. As The River Flows Along 6/4/2013
15. Sonnet 87: Ode To Spring 11/16/2013
16. What Love 4/20/2013
17. Silence 4/23/2013
18. Changing Times 4/18/2013
19. Anniversary 6/9/2013
20. Sunrise 10/19/2013
21. To My Sweet Love 9/11/2013
22. A New Day 4/13/2013
23. Autumn Leaves 8/30/2013
24. Sonnet 86: For Your Today 11/9/2013
25. Sonnet 21: Your Sweet Love Is Such Music To My Ears 6/1/2013
26. The Eye Of The Needle 10/1/2013
27. Grace And Beauty 9/8/2013
28. Sonnet 85: To Blind Jack 11/2/2013
29. Starry Night 5/4/2013
30. An Ordinary Day 7/8/2013
31. Sonnet 73: On Pollution 8/7/2013
32. Sonnet 84: Joys Of Love 10/26/2013
33. Sonnet 6: Unrequited Love 5/20/2013
34. Kingfisher 4/8/2013
35. Sonnet 5: True Love 5/17/2013
36. Sonnet 56: A Life In The Pub 5/13/2013
37. A Bright Star 4/2/2013
38. Glorious Love 8/1/2013
39. Cry Of The Wild 9/5/2013
40. A Wanderer’s Song 9/22/2013
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

Golden Leaves

Autumn ushers in the golden blaze of leaf
When every tree delightfully looks their best,
And long shadows point with fingers brief
With the sun slung on a low horizon blest.

The pale days, now shorter as of late,
Mark the end of summer and the eve of winters fall.
Blackberries sprinkled in the hedge soon to make
A feast of a pie at the end of summer ball.

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