Frustration is the winter
It's Darkness  felt whilst canopy trees twinkle light
Its nature is bare and clinical
There is no trace of the decay
Her words in the frost
Never by the impression as footprints hold
Winter has love but the wrong way around

The children rush to see lights
A twinkle for the whitest snow
Now the pleasure is insurmountable
They feel for presents
Under the symbolic greenery
The warmth in our soul we will hold
Under the next it becomes a life endless in design

Dreams are technicolor
The season is silvered satin
Often the distractions have no meaning
The wind is the fortune of the dream
If forever February weeps
Saying this is my swan song for the days that have gone ?
Another year to pass

Mother nature admires
To offer a dreamlike castle of ice
Progression to the days of rebirth
Will be a warming breath on cold fingers
You have to build the wall to see the light when cracks appear

In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter

                                              By Phil Roberts

Clumsy is the autumn
Often the colours change
As the trees shake and bend to sheds it leaves
And the cool earth accepts their warmth
Her beauty misunderstood
Never by the impression it gives

The earth reclaims it's fruit
Summer has ended with a glance
It stood on proud solid ground
Now the soil is moist with the tears of the morning dew
They are never lovers hand in hand
Just the order of the seasons

Dreams are technicolor not faded
Despair must be the same
Often the distractions have no meaning
The wind is unforgiving
There are hints of warmth in its voice
Saying this is my swan song for the days that have gone

Mother natures fruit falls from its heaven
To offer decay to its rebirth
Progression to the days of frost
Will be a blink in a wind tested eye
You have to build the wall to see the light when cracks appear

If trees be poems by the earth
In avid joy I read each one
Florets writ in fragrant verse
Inked with beams of the morning sun
In shade, a fruit, a whiff of air
I rest beneath wide branches spread
A cavort of emerald canopy
Bestows comfort upon my breath
I lean against the bark, recline
And think of how it stands in time

Through tunneled years it's stoic trunk
Stands proud against frost and rain
Drops it's leaves to nakedness
Till spring dresses in green again  
On but an arm, the  koel sings
'Tis home to birds that weave a nest
Haven to sojourners ache
Clasp around, hold close to breast
I trace the names of love engraved
Now forgot; asleep in graves

On felled bark my soul I pen
On papyrus the past I feel
The murmured songs of sentiments
In susurrus as branches kneel.
Nymphs would hide or fairies entreat
With fireflies in silver light
Creatures tip toe on their feet
Lithe, in the darkness of the night
In engraved lines meaning I see
What better song, what poetree?



Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky -  Gibran