Author Information
Last leaves.
Sun brushed leaves
hang, like broken wings.
Tightly held,
no chance to fly.
Near naked boughs
claw the sky,
each straight-legged
branch, upward stands.
Last leaves flutter
like wind whipped letters,
caught and held
in twig thin hands.
Hi Stephen, I must apologise
Hi Stephen, I must apologise for not being on here for some time, my beloved dog died two weeks ago from heart failure, and he was back and forth to the vet's for a few weeks beforehand so I didn't have an interest in anything other than looking after him. he was my main companion and the reason I welcomed each new day. Since he died I have no heart to write or find joy in anything. When I find my way again I hope I shall be able to write and comment on PP's once again. Thank you for your very kind comment on this poem I do appreciate it. Sue.
I guessed you were an English
I guessed you were an English poet after I read two or three of your works, then went to your home page and confirmed it. The same thread of the passing of the seasons wound through the three poems that I sampled. I'll take a break and come back for more soon.
My Secret River
Hi darkpool, sorry have to
Hi darkpool, sorry have to admit nature and all its changing moods plays a huge part in my life, always has, I do write on a variety of other subjects too , but I do keep returning to the natural world though, it fascinates me.
Hope you wern't too bored with the ones you read lol. Thank you so much for commenting, it's much appreciated. :-)