Emma Woodford – 2 poems



The season for poets to look forward,

grateful for wind fresh snowdrops,

for ochre lifts of daffodils.


Then Spring came in


Nurses clad in white,

PPE like armour

tending super spreader

patient zero.


Hardly matters


(was it in Lombardy?)

Barely matters,

of course.


Hope is a garden

blown by storms

where wells wish

for needles.


This year’s bloody snowdrops

wheeze knowledge.

We are all patient zero.


Saffron daffodils tremble

the breeze and wait

to see if the season

will turn on age,

or on pre-existing,

or if summer will even come.


Never Never Land


Stolen gems stashed in bamboo

cut by the pampas grass,

walled by centuries of granite

that comforts us.


Home in fern-lined lanes

through bolts of blue

that lead to waves over umber

seaweed forests. And Tinkerbell

at home in the wisteria,

her parlour glowing green

while the pancake sun glistened

in the jam we shared

with gluttonous wasps.


à table, four-deep in cutlery.

Salad, plat, cheese and desert.

Meals prepared every single day.

The flagstone kitchen floor

smooth under the tread of us,

shining under the glimpse of us.


These days, a doctor lives

in the portal to my Never Never Land.

I want to ring the bell and ask

if he believes in faeries.


Emma Woodford

By Heavenly Flower Publishing

Bindweed Magazine publishes two anthologies each year: Midsummer Madness and Winter Wonderland. Bindweed is run as a not for profit, labour of love endeavour by an author/poet couple: Leilanie Stewart and Joseph Robert. Bindweed can be found at

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s