The week’s poem, called The Leaf, is by Colin Clements.
There was a wise old man
Who lived in a humble apartment on the ground floor,
Next to a mother and her daughter at number four.
He called on the family every day
For the daughter was so ill, she was fading away.
He looked after the young girl so her mother could have respite, as the poor women was awake most of the night.
Outside the window was a big Maple tree, covered in brown autumn leaves.
His heart missed a beat to what she then said
“When the last leaf falls I will be dead.”
The man was an artist, he was well renowned, his paintings were known all around the town.
He painted a single Maple leaf in all shades of brown and tied it to the tree on a branch high above the ground.
In the morning she looked out to see the leaf, for weeks she looked out but the leaf never fell.
After a time the fever left and all was well.
Now she is eighteen, the old artist man has not been seen.
And If you ever see one single maple leaf hanging on a tree where ever you go it could be the artist’s he painted all those years ago.
Send your poems to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please put ‘Poetry Please’ in the subject line and include your name and address.