Paula Puddephatt

Rookie (06/11/73 / Reading)

Lime Trees - Poem by Paula Puddephatt

Summers consist of
peridot mornings,
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
amber, copper,
gold, and red.

In winter, the trees are slender,
with a stark, grey-brown beauty:
looking fragile,
yet able to endure
the harsh frosts of the season.

And, throughout the seasons,
'they' plot.
They want
a concrete universe -
so they mark out their potential
victims, with orange spots.

The letters to local residents are headed:
'Implementation of
Environmental Improvements'.

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.


Comments about Lime Trees by Paula Puddephatt

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Friday, November 12, 2010

Poem Edited: Sunday, August 5, 2012


[Report Error]