Everyday Poetry

I really love this time of year when the leaves are changing colour, and before they fall to the ground.   The trees bleed slowly from their tips  Deepening to rust and russet  As they seep into the sky. In spring the youthful sap pushed vigorously  Rushing towards each branch's end, Painting each leaf bright green from tip to trunk. Now in autumn the sap retreats towards the core Draining each leaf of green, revealing hidden colours The rubies, bronze and gold, waiting there all along.   © Copyright 2025. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

I woke up a couple of mornings ago with the beginnings of a poem chasing round my head. I was intrigued by how the sounds of the words triggered other words with similar sounds, and just let it play out on the page.  Stories unfurl from the tip of my pen Curl down the page line by line Until they find space, the time to pause, Gather strength, resume their course again. Words race, keeping pace with my mind Running quick; shadows take shape, Become fixed, lead on to the next,  Remaking places, recalling faces from another time. © Copyright 2025. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved