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Anchor 1


Scroll down for some wonderful poems written and sent to me

by people all around the world. Click to quickly reach your ROMANTIC POEMS, BROKEN HEART POEMS, and GENERAL POEMS

New! Read some of my own poems for grown-ups here

And read some of my children's poems here

You can also:

  • read poems written by children under 11 here

  • read poems written by teenagers from around the world here

All poems are copyrighted - contact Andrea if you want to use one for a publication, a performance or anything else.


Anchor 2


Poem by Doug Robbins
Cascasding hair shimmering in the pie crust sun.
Lips so soft my lips part them with a kiss sweeter than a peppermint stick.
Standing next to a sea so small our love dwarfs it so.
Julie and I our love will always blessed be!
One Summer Afternoon
By Richa Kashyap, Bangalore India
I still feel your eyes, 
looking in to mine...
one summer afternoon. 
The dry hot air, 
gradually turning hotter, 
as you look with surprise, 
and then with love...
one summer afternoon.
I don't know, 
if it is a question or an answer...
the expression floating in your eyes, right now..
I am struck in the moment, 
my wrist clutched in ur palms
and for me, time has stopped here in...
one summer afternoon.
I feel your breath on my cheeks 
and you say nothing.
And I don't think, I can frame a question for you right now.
I close my eyes and I feel you closer.
everything is warm and cosy.
I feel your hands are hot and so are your lips
there is a  strange comfort in this warmness..
As if we are meant to be, 
the way we were
one summer afternoon.
Dear Princess
by Wayne 
Every time I read your words, I want to get to know you,
every time I see your fine photos, I just want to meet you,
every time I see your beautiful lips, I want to kiss you,
every time I look at your beautiful eyes - I'm mesmerised by you,
The last two relationships you had: those two guys treated you badly, 
I think they were crazy,
I think they where crazy to let you go, 
your like a beautiful white dove - pure and innocent, gentle, graceful-
and so sweat, 
your the kind of person I've been longing to meet.
I think any guy would be lucky to have you, 
I think God put you on this earth so that people will adore you,
your body is precious,
your mind and spirit is priceless,
I want us to be happy so that nothing comes between us,
 My beautiful princess, I want you to be my Queen.
 On The Train
Gillian Clarke
Cradled through England between flooded fields
rocking, rocking the rails, my head-phones on,
the black box of my Walkman on the table.
Hot tea trembles in its plastic cup.
I'm thinking of you waking in our bed
thinking of me on the train. Too soon to phone.
The radio speaks in the suburbs, in commuter towns,
in cars unloading children at school gates,
is silenced in dark parkways down the line
before locks click and footprints track the frost
and trains slide out of stations in the dawn
dreaming their way towards the blazing bone-ship.
The vodaphone you are calling
may have been switched off.
Please call later. And calling later,
calling later their phones ring in the rubble
and in the rubble of suburban kitchens
the wolves howl into silent telephones.
I phone. No answer. Where are you now?
The train moves homeward through the morning
Tonight I'll be home safe, but talk to me, please.
Pick up the phone. Today I'm tolerant
of mobiles. Let them say it. I'll say it too.
Darling, I'm on the train.
      Anna, London, UK
      On my clothes, on my bed, your scent lingers welcomely 
      you return my tshirt i left you wearing and it smells like
      the softness of your lips and the warmth in your eyes entraps in
      my memory
      I listen to music that reminds me of your smile and all is but
      near perfect 
       Around you I am
      confident and yet cautious, 
      hopeful yet realistic, 
      trapped but not smothered        
      between us is something inescapable and indescribable, something
      in which no one else can relate.
      it's only you who can turn my wooden heart.


Poem by Wale Ajanosi
 The drums beats heavely, it is a marriage. An infant sits gently
      on the eyelids of his mother. Love is in the air. It is a surreal
      dance. The adults are drinkin palm wine. The bride lives for the
      wind, and is passionate about the waters. Which only Osun


      by Matt Goodfellow, Manchester, UK 
      Strange to think that far away
      you watch the softly dying day 
      whilst here the light is fresh and new 
      and warms me with the thought of you.
William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
   So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
   So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

One I love, two I love,
Three I love I say;
Four I love with all my heart,
Five I cast away.
Six he loves, seven she loves,
Eight they love together;
Nine he comes, ten he tarries,
Eleven he woos, and twelve he marries.


Richa Kashyap, Bangalore, India


Don't think I write for you, 

my words are just mine, 

you happen to be my subject,

 mystery, moody, undefined.  

You are like my words,struggling for expression, 

Going wrong most of the time, 

with no sense of direction.  


I am the creator,

I am the poet,

I struggle to put you in place

the adoration that I ode you with...

is my imagination, not your face. 


Anchor 3

Mr. G.E. Raulisa, Cape Town, RSA
In the song and the laughter and the tears,
And the eyes and the ears and through the lips;
For days and weeks and months that turned to years
It burnt and leapt and never succumbed to Fate.
For love is Destiny, and knows no bounds
Though in the heart of the sea of violent currents
I'd often felt it easier to set out for the shore
Than to hope for my head to abide above the water.
So I lay, wiggling in the confines of the stupor
Hoping to nudge a door back to the real world
Where I'm free from love and desire, safe against pain
But there I'd died once and could no more live.
And she was there still as blind, as beautiful
Singing and laughing and shedding onion tears
Never thinking a fool like me could seek more than her friendship
As I figured how in the name of love I'd take her in.
Today, many an age later, she's my best friend still
And tomorrow will say her wedding vows
Receive my blessing and set out for honeymoon
To explore new love, and probably conceive my brother's child.



 I haven't told anyone

Shahla Roshani from Iran 


I haven't told anyone, i haven't

Even to the socked sails of our ship,

Even to your far and loveless hands

Even to the wind drifted me out towards cheerful passengers

I will leave your shore of love

And i will drop my tears at the far side of the sea, Where the dawn is the only tie of our homelands,

I haven't told anyone, i haven't

Even to the eyes of moms who looking fervently forwards

Even to the albatross,

Why can't you hear my beating heart anymore?

I can't believe

You can't see my hairs in the hands of winds

While pleading towards your homeland

I haven't told anyone, but i want to tell you

You, who left me alone in a sadness avenue,

I will put my ring in a pear-less oyster on the shore

Open the oyster

Perhaps it will reflect a light from the distant sea

Brightness, though not of your lovely eyes that can trick my broken heart

Maybe i see a furrow on your brow, a teardrop, which shows the glory of our love

Don't let me travel alone,

Don' t let me lean on the shoulder of pain

Call my name, i shall return

But if you don't, i will go

And never tell anyone
Rainbows no more
                W.J.Calvert Jr.    Ocala, Florida
I look upon the morning sky and see the coming storm 
Behind my though the sun does rise pale light and rays of warm
And as I wonder to what this day will call
Gently softly now the rain begins to fall
And through the mist ahead of me a rainbow in the sky
The Master's promise given from an ancient day gone by
One of peace and hope endured 
Dare I believe the promise I'm assured
Quickly passes though the calmness of the morn
Fast upon me now is the raging of the storm
Pain and fury like none I'd hope to see
She tears and rips at me and brings me to my knees 
Her anguish flows from deep within
The torments of another's sin
With lightning thunder it all unfolds
And through tears like rain her story told
My world is black and the winds they groan
But for all of this it is mine to own
The storm at hand was brought by me
Through calloused heart I set it free
The storm has settled no longer does she rage
And as in fate and fairy tale we turn the  page
Alone I stand outside her closed tight door
And for me there shall be rainbows no more
 Poem by James Cecil
In solitude, I search for will
To mend my soul, and shed the chill
Of broken love, the loss, and fears
I taste this day- with salty tears.
Memories - are but the foe
That drags my fractured spirit slow
My children's voices cast no balm
 I search for hope, through prayer or psalm.
For only light of each day new
With all its promise, fresh and true
Can lead me to that phantom spark
That draws in hope, and lights the dark.
My friend is time; its patient will
Each passing day make dull the nil
That left me empty - duped of trust
A sunlit day precedes the dusk.
The  dusk is tired; a weary yawn  
My slumber calms until the dawn
I wake on wings of pains' full scope
This new day born - I ache for hope.


Where i want to go 
Poem by Mike Brennan
The bruises fade but the scars remain,
Another source of life-long pain, 
My heart remains in your secure possession, 
I can deal with that but I have a confession, 
Infidelity has crossed my mind, 
My apologies but I'm just trying to find, 
Freedom, trust and a little love too, 
Evidently I'm not getting that from you,

Yet despite knowing this I
remain in your keeping,
No respite, no escape except when I'm sleeping,
Though sometimes my dreams are plagued with your face,
My once-little world now too crowded a place,
I'm never alone, you're always inside,
I've nowhere to run and nowhere to hide
Bitten by absence
by Kirthu
Are you there,my brother?
The silence replied.
I want to see you,
The darkness responded.
The tears of mine replaced your presence.
How can I ever forget you?
Everything brings back your memories to me.
You must be somewhere around here,
And you can't hide from me.
'Cause my heart can catch sight of you.
The tears on my cheeks remind me of your weeks.
The tears remained wet and set the heart in pain,
Hope the tears will dry along with the pain.



Poem by N.D.
I had to lose him to know I was blind
For not seeing him when he was right there
Now I wish I could just go back in time
And treat him the way he deserved
But life will go on, and the pain will always remain
'Cause I missed one shot to do things right
And I'm the one to be blamed
Though it wasn't his fault.. it wasn't mine
Thinking of him breaks me down
And I see him everyday, walking on the ground
But I know now it's not him.. it's just someone who looks alike
'Cause he's gone, and he'll never be back around

Mr N.T. Vendel, Cirencester, UK
Burnt the morning toast again,
Forgot to fill the kettle,
Where's Mary? Have you seen her today?
I can't seem to rest or settle,
And these years don't wait for me to breathe,
Old memories replay on the hour,
And I really don't want to be here no more
All alone in this concrete tower.
The phone doesn't want to ring no more,
Has the postman lost his way?
My old friend Joe checked out last night,
Now his dogs got nowhere to stay,
Oh Mary, Mary I miss you so,
Even though you've been gone for years,
I really just want to let someone know,
It's been so lonely without you here

By Britton age 13 from Austin,TX
I was asleep beneath the sun
When I felt water, splash 
on my cold stubborn feet
I was awakened
I sat up to find him gone
I could feel the burning sensation 
of tears, behind my eyes
They began to roll down ,
my hands wiping  the glisling 
crystals, off of my sadden face
After I finished wiping the crystals
off my sadden face 
I began to start my new journey
as a daughter with no father

Mrs C.Richardson,York,UK

Please give me what is mine
memory box. Let me unlock your key.
Let all those pictures and words
Spill out and shout ~we re free
Why do you hide them
and disguise them, so unkind.
You slide them out of view.
My fear, so clear yet out of mind.
Everything I know is gone
The cost is lost with tears that swell.
Allow me just a glimpse,
a peek, a sneak of what I knew so well

by Andrea Shavick, London, UK
Thank you for supper, he says,
as you drop the plates and throw them
across the room.
Shall I make tea? he says,
as you fill the kettle, find the cups, rinse the plates

and cut yourself on a knife

he’s left the wrong way up in the dishwasher.
I’ll do that, he says,
but you’re too busy swigging the washing up liquid,
gouging the work surface,
disemboweling the washing machine,
blow-torching the shirts,
spearing the goldfish
and scalding yourself with tea, to reply.
Why are you always too tired? he says,
but the thunderous din of the
unrelenting, unremitting conveyor belt of slave-labour
has already lulled you

into a false sense of...


Anchor 4

Mr. Víctor Martín, Plasencia, SPAIN

We are what we are
drafts of what we want to be

I got nothing under the skin:
a bit of pulsing wood
that sometimes catches on fire and suddenly
takes up its vegetable instincts

I gave you everything I had left
I have nothing else to add:
Every life holds a death
Not every death had a chance at life

I have no phoenix soul

I'm keeping a bullet
Made of lead and caramel
Made of gunpowder and velvet
For getting through such sour life

I'm going to sew myself a pair of wings
so I can take flight
I keep no back up copy
of my memory.

Gillian Clarke
When all's said, and done,
if civilisation drowns
the last colour to go
will be gold -
the light on a glass,
the prow of a gondola,
the name on a rosewood piano
as silence engulfs it.
And first to return
to a waterlogged world, 
the rivers slipping out to sea,
the cities steaming,
will be gold,
one dip from Bellini's brush,
feathers of angels, Cinquecente nativities,
and all that follows.

Zombies (What In Your Head)
   by  Dc88crx
      Dont feel right with no facebook
      My i.d. card
      As a digital book,
      Save space in my wallet
      But my mind it's took
      Constantly refreshing
      To see what dribbles been wrote.
      The mass production of my life
      Big tv, fast cars
      Such a delight,
      Seems what really matters
      Been bred from my mind
      All thanks to this illusion
      That we call time.
      Society complains
     That everything has changed
      But when we buys in so easy
      It's all fair game. 

Poem by C Stevens
      When I grow up a pirate is the job I m going to do  ..
      Or maybe an explorer in the depths of dark Peru !
      Perhaps even a spaceman who rockets round the sun .
      No wait, I know a zoo keeper is surely lots of fun.
      I could decide to be a knight who guards the castle gates .
      Or better still, a circus strongman lifting heavy weights.
      A fire-fighter sounds exciting sliding down a pole .
      Or a famous football star who scores the winning goal.
      I m sure each of these grown up jobs would really be a joy
      I think tonight I ll sleep on it it s quite cool being a boy. 
Stop Bullying by Nuno Vaz
      s: is for sadness which i feel
      t: is for the tears trickling down my face
      o: is for offending which they do to me
      p: is for picking on me
      b: is for bullying and how horrible it is
      u: is for upsetting which i always feel
      l: is for lying when confronted
      l: is for laughing when they see I'm upset
      y: is for `why me`
      i: is for ignoring which i rather they do
      n: is for nasty for the names they call me
      g: is for ganging up on me
      for Julia Densham by Mike Johnson
      that an orange
      wasn't orange;
      that all oranges
      grew blue.
      True, we might have to fake a name 
      for when yellow's mixed with red,
      make up a shade, instead.
      Mmm, would a blue fruit's juice
      taste strange;
      in what ways may it change?
      Blue oranges,
      blue oranges,
      blue oranges...

Andrea Shavick
A big boy plays a mournful piece
It’s not exactly a masterpiece
I want to know - how many to go?
Another one - the whole damn form
I clap politely, stifle a yawn
Go with the flow - how many to go?
I try my best to stay awake
Amuse myself with their mistakes
My head hangs low - how many to go?
Now my child's turn! He plays with ease
I glare at one who dares to sneeze
I strain my neck, can hardly breathe
I’m all aglow - the tears, they flow
He finishes.
I cheer!
We go

More Shakesperian Tragedy Than Super Nova.
      by  Dc88crx
There's so much stuff i need to get off my chest

But i lack the confidence and self respect,

Throat closes up and i start to stress
So i force the words out in a jumbled mess.
Profanity come through with such ease
But something a little more heart felt comes through like a  disease
Pleasing the masses aint my ultimate goal,
 I just want relief for my mind, my body and my soul.
 I try all the time to get it all out
 But just end up covering my ears
 As i scream and i shout,
 Doubt sets in and i feel it's all over
 I guess im more Shakespearean tragedy
 Than I am super nova

All poems are copyrighted - contact Andrea if you want to use one for a publication, a performance or anything else.

You can also:

  • read some of my children's poems here

  • read poems written by children under 11 here

  • read poems written by teenagers here

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