Folktober Sonnets by Paul Brookes
Amazing poems shared. Please read and enjoy this outstanding site.
Autumnal Green Man Spiders thread my lips lightly together. My leaves become their actual colours and fall from my face, red, yellow, ochre. My voice rustle of green leaves is no more. I am the scent of ripe apple and pear. I am the rain on sodden bark, slow time. My days shorter, dark sooner, light rarer. I am burning leaves. Face of Harvest time. After the fires, my mouth nose and eyes spout green shoots, new leaves bud and grow on my barkskin. I flourish once more. An aspect of dream. Memory of ice. Warmth without, within. In stone, wood or paper I decay lose definition, but still my image grows 2. Erl-King Hear the gust music my air blows through this reed? Inhabits your ear, delights all your senses. A new birdsong, fresh animal track, beads a sprightly beat, warm summer days, tenses new sugar tastes on your…
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