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I smelled them before I looked more closely – damp, rotting, ice fringed, fallen, mushed and mixed piles of roadside autumn leaves. Running back to my car for a bag I stole the moment from an over full day to gather a bag full of colour. If only there were a way of dipping a paintbrush into each one and painting direct from nature’s pallet. Alas I’ve yet to acquire this magic but the leaves did tell me they had poems to share, and bid me be their translator…

Rippled and wavy


unflattenable oak

so infinite strong

sing us the song

of your acorn days

when my ancestors lived

beneath and amongst you

in a partnership

I crave to regrow

You ‘greenily’ sucked in the sun

(what there was of it!)

through the season of summer

but only now

do you re-share the rays

of light that has been

and in your golden glow

warmth lingers a little longer

and I can bear

the darkness to come

I don’t wear lipstick

but I covet your colour

to play on my smile

and dare to pleasure

the eyes that feast

on red’s temptation

and smoulder on passion’s fire