David Wood Poems

Keats, how sad your troubled life seemed to be
'Twas TB, that dreadful great leveller.
What a pity it robbed the world of thee
You became a European traveller.
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Sitting by the window looking out
Over the manicured lawn green,
Black birds and robins did shout
Their calling, wanting to be seen.
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When I was a lad all those years ago
We'd get our shopping from the corner shop,
There were no supermarkets then you know
The pace of life slower, now it's nonstop.
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I hear Ukraine has captured
So many Russian tanks.
They're selling them on eBay!
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If there is war
In the Ukraine
It would
Not only cause great
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Winter, in all its cold damp airs,
Its hard stiff frozen ground.
Of short days and long nights,
And those mushed wet leaves
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The winter lake, surrounded by frigid trees
And naked branches whose now ankle deep
Soggy wet leaves carpet the lakeside path,
Has become an inhospitable place.
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The wind gallops like a riderless horse
Over the graves of voices no longer
Heard. Where mourners lay flowers
For the dead who can no longer smell
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There is a silence in some
Of those famous paintings
That grace our museums.
Portraits silently looking
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Autumn ushers in the golden blaze of leaf
When every tree delightfully looks their best,
And long shadows point with fingers brief
With the sun slung on a low horizon blest.
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