READERS’ POETRY: From the Bury Free Press of Friday, April 4

Readers' poetry
Readers' poetry
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This week’s poems are by Gillian Fisher and Wilf Daniells.


grass that surrounds most tree trunks,

gold, violet, scylla blue, and white.

A rug of colours made of those

marks, was thrown to superimpose

last autumn’s leaves in their last plight.

Like groups of friends, our daisy clumps

gossip on the broad greensward.

We shouldn’t haul the mower out too soon,

and execute them, while they’re merrily strewn,

because, just on one afternoon, we’re bored!

Out of its body-changing cubicle,

a butterfly emerges, to dry new wings.

Odd, how a caterpillar built a drab

dull shed around itself, held by a tab

on a sheltered tree, or wasll, until next spring.



Sing me a song to thrill my heart

With notes so clear and true

Sing me a song of peace and love

To ring the whole world through

Sing me a song as it should be sung

The way you always do

Sing me a song of hope and joy

As I’ve always loved you to

Sing me a song as loud as you can

With promise of life anew

So the last sound I hear

As I go to my rest

My friends

Is the sound of you.