The trees cry – a poem

Watching the water drops Trickle from treetops, Each one a tear of sorrow. Bare branches forlorn In the grey of the morn, As they wait for a better tomorrow. Even flowering colour Has never looked duller, In sunless cloud choked skies. It’s a pitiful scene Not a springtime dream, No wonder the trees do cry.

Colourless – a poem

Another winters day Cold and grim Steel grey skies Sun tarnished dim Burdened clouds Downpours reign Bleak landscape Colours wane.

Red and White Roses

The symbolic flower of England is the called the Tudor Rose which came about from two roses, the white rose of the House of York and the red rose of the House of Lancaster. The crown was in contention and thus began a war between the two houses as to who should rule Britain. This

May Song – a poem

Bluebells have bloomed in abundance Spilling their colour in carpets of green, Nature stands centre stage now Singing her sweet reverie. A splendid rendition of joy, An operatic delight, Bright notes bursting forth Among hawthorn blossom white. Earths aria crescendos But not yet reached its peak, Once only murmurings stirred, Now the whole choir speaks.

Laburnum – a poem

Pensive beauty, Her golden boughs Tumbling Like warm summer rains. Forsaken, Her sunshine blooms Shrouding Poison in her veins. Lethal enchantress, She is resplendently Captured In her dazzling chains.

Summer longing – a poem

I long to walk in meadows Where natures perfume scents the air And floras colours bathe me As I wander without care, The drone of bees brings comfort And sunshine warms my soul, How I long to feel the beauty Ambling safe in summers fold.

Crocus – a poem

A little touch of lilac, A tiny tad of green, Small signs of splendour Arrival of the Spring Queen. Dewdrops of amethyst Gleaming on the wayside In her fine regal colours Spring Queen has arrived.

Sunset Sky

The sky she is radiant in her scarlet gown, With crimson skirts flowing as the sun goes down She waltzes pure passion In ruby streaked light Until darkness dances in To stake claim the night

Winter is here – a poem

Winter is here, With her pale skies Of washed out greys, Gracing us With her long dark nights And bleak filled days, Yet, Even with a stark and sombre palette Her beauty holds us sway.

Treasures – a poem

Bronze notes, Copper hues, Burnished gold And brassy views. Leafy treasures piled, In precious metal tints, Shining in the sunlight On concrete coloured flint.