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Below are poems written by poet
Paula Puddephatt. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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Summers consist of
and emerald afternoons.
The trees filter the sunlight -
so often saving me from
those headaches, which might have
mutated, evolved into migraines.
By autumn, the leaves have changed colour:
a poet's palette of
gold, and red.
In winter, the trees are slender,
with a stark, grey-brown beauty:
yet able to endure
the harsh frosts of the season.
And, throughout the seasons,
a concrete Universe -
so they mark out their potential
victims, with orange spots.
The letters to local residents are headed:
Yet, trees can bleed.
Scenes of carnage seal the deal.
They win; we lose.
So much wildlife, instantly evicted.
Fluorescent yellow workmen circle tree stumps,
inspecting their day's work -
before going for "a pint",
and home for tea.
Spring is cancelled.