Thank you

Hi everyone,

Tim Rasinski asked if I had a Memorial Day poem in my files so he could use it on his post today. I didn’t have one so I wrote a poem for him. You can read it at Thank you, Tim.

My Word of the Month poem for May

Hi everyone,

Sorry to be so slow getting to my poem for May, but here it is.

Now What?

This morning I can’t find my groove.

I had it when I went to bed,

ideas swimming through my head,

but somehow during the night it fled.

This morning I can’t find my groove.

My fickle groove is simply gone.

Without a note to say, “Adieu,”

it vanished leaving not a clue.

Now what am I going to do?

My fickle groove is simply gone

What will happen to me now?

When I awakened with the dawn,

my traitor groove had traveled on.

I’ve never felt so woebegone.

What will happen to me now?

Read me a story

Hi everyone,

Thank you to Tim Rasinski for posting a poem of mine today on his World Read Aloud Day post. “Read Me a Story” first appeared in 1994 in THE BOY WHO COUNTED STARS and has been anthologized a couple of other times I can think of. I’m grateful to Tim for bringing it out for another curtain call.

A Writer’s Prayer

Hi everyone,

Here’s one I did many years ago in a book called CONNECTING DOTS. It was a collection of autobiographical poems. “A Writer’s Prayer” is dedicated to everyone who may have at some point, past or present, felt this way.

I’m 28. Part of becoming a writer is being rejected by editors who don’t want your work. I’m learning that lesson all too well.


Something happens in the US mail
that makes a story go stale
the same way drinks lose their fizz
after the party.

This effervesced when it was fresh
the day I sent it on its way.
Now it’s back like all the others —
stale, flat, boring.

Boring, that’s me.
Never going to get it right,
never will be good enough,
never going to be a writer.
Who am I kidding?

I mail my newest story off
like a prayer of hope –
This time, please, this time.

(c) 2004 David L. Harrison, all rights reserved

My 2nd Word of the Month poem for December

Hi everyone,

Here’s a second poem inspired by this month’s Word of the Month word, SLEEP.

The Dream

Muscles twitching, nothing more?
Hind legs churn as if in dream.
He’s after something it would seem,
while deep in sleep upon my floor.

Would muscle twitch and nothing more
indicate his canine brain
can’t chase a rabbit down a lane,
while sleeping deeply on my floor?

Can’t visualize a day’s encore,
perhaps this time a faster run,
another inch, a victory won,
the taste of rabbit, on my floor?

I think this dog that I adore
has dreams that populate his night,
set rabbits into panicked flight,
with legs churning on my floor.

(c) 2020 David L. Harrison, all rights reserved