Everyday poetry for pleasure
Our site has now become established and I wish to thank all my readers who have read the poems on the site.There.is good news ahead in the forth coming months, my first book will go on sale. The book title is called "Everyday Poetry for Pleasure! I now have a photo of myself on the site, thank you all once again. Please check back often for changes.I have placed some poems on my site and there will be a few more. Everyday Poetry means just what it says, my poems are what I see everyday, so I like to write about them (as in Everyday Poetry). I also have a story site, where I will be placing some short stories and long rhythmic rhymes which are very funny.
I have been writing since I was at school, I am now sixty one and semi retired.I am also dyslexic, but writing has helped me overcome this.
Also the marvelous invention of the computer and the INTERNET. My site will have a lot more to offer in the near future. I hope you enjoy my work and
Thank you for reading my work
Please call again as there is lots more to come on "Everyday Poetry"
Author S.D.J.S
READ MY POEMS AT YOUR LEISURE
I HOPE THEY GIVE YOU A GREAT
AMOUNT OF PLEASURE
READ THROUGH A WORLD,
WHERE I LOVE TO WRITE
SO STOP FOR A WHILE
AND VISIT MY WEBSITE
I would like you to read this poem as an introduction to my site
A Brave Canary
He sat on the mat all bright eyed and bushy tailed but the other half of him was sad because he had failed.
He had failed to do what he supposed to do and that put the cat to the end of the queue.
A family of cats tried to get the canary, but he was to sharp because he flew like a fairy, so all the cats called him Lairy the Canary.
For months on end those cats tried their best, but dear old Lairy would never rest because he was shrewed and at his best.
He knew each cat would prowl and stalk, but he was sharper than a hawk.
A bird on a wing he may have been but he really led those cats a merry scene.
Ducking and diving every day just to keep those cats at bay, and he would always have the last say.
Bird seed would drop and feathers would fly but this old canary would never say die.
This brave old canary whose name was Lairy, a small yellow bird that flew like a fairy.
Then one day he was needed to go down the mine and he knew he had come to the end of his time.
A blast of gas and old Lairy lay flat, but at least it was better than being killed by a cat.
Dear old Lairy now lies in his grave with an inscription on his stone
B for Brave.
I have been writing since I was at school, I am now sixty one and semi retired.I am also dyslexic, but writing has helped me overcome this.
Also the marvelous invention of the computer and the INTERNET. My site will have a lot more to offer in the near future. I hope you enjoy my work and
Thank you for reading my work
Please call again as there is lots more to come on "Everyday Poetry"
Author S.D.J.S
READ MY POEMS AT YOUR LEISURE
I HOPE THEY GIVE YOU A GREAT
AMOUNT OF PLEASURE
READ THROUGH A WORLD,
WHERE I LOVE TO WRITE
SO STOP FOR A WHILE
AND VISIT MY WEBSITE
I would like you to read this poem as an introduction to my site
A Brave Canary
He sat on the mat all bright eyed and bushy tailed but the other half of him was sad because he had failed.
He had failed to do what he supposed to do and that put the cat to the end of the queue.
A family of cats tried to get the canary, but he was to sharp because he flew like a fairy, so all the cats called him Lairy the Canary.
For months on end those cats tried their best, but dear old Lairy would never rest because he was shrewed and at his best.
He knew each cat would prowl and stalk, but he was sharper than a hawk.
A bird on a wing he may have been but he really led those cats a merry scene.
Ducking and diving every day just to keep those cats at bay, and he would always have the last say.
Bird seed would drop and feathers would fly but this old canary would never say die.
This brave old canary whose name was Lairy, a small yellow bird that flew like a fairy.
Then one day he was needed to go down the mine and he knew he had come to the end of his time.
A blast of gas and old Lairy lay flat, but at least it was better than being killed by a cat.
Dear old Lairy now lies in his grave with an inscription on his stone
B for Brave.
