Quotes about leaf, page 10
A Banaba Leaf
this banaba leaf falls from its branch
a child gathers it
and hands it to me
and i keep it
on top of my study
each day i look at it
like it is something so different
from the rest of the leaves
time shrinks it
time browns it
until its cells begin
to show its veins
until it turns to thread
crumpled pieces
until it turns to dust
until it becomes like the sands
of the shore
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In spring and summer winds may blow
In spring and summer winds may blow,
And rains fall after, hard and fast;
The tender leaves, if beaten low,
Shine but the more for shower and blast
But when their fated hour arrives,
When reapers long have left the field,
When maidens rifle turn'd-up hives,
And their last juice fresh apples yield,
A leaf perhaps may still remain
Upon some solitary tree,
Spite of the wind and of the rain . . .
A thing you heed not if you see.
At last it falls. Who cares? Not one:
And yet no power on earth can ever
Replace the fallen leaf upon
Its spray, so easy to dissever.
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poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Relaxation Of A Native Woman
the night is very cold here
on top of Mt. Malindang
the old woman sits on the ground
(there are no chairs here)
puts her arm on her knee
and begins to roll a
leaf which she dried under
the sun the whole day
she tears a small portion of the tobacco leaf
rolls it on the other leaf and then she
lights the roll on the gas lamp
she puffs her smoke
to the moon.
everyone understands
what silence is all about
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Leaf of the Earth
A leaf of the earth
Awoken with its dream
The spring coming birth
And rivers of easy stream
The casting of the clouds
High above the land
And to and fro crowds
So easy to understand
Imprisonment made free
Of every earthly content
When things come to be
Full of its freshly scent
When summer comes in
For you to kindly embrace
And wash away winter's skin
And each its darkish lace
A Leaf of young green
That comes with liberation
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poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Ode to Autumn
a fervent sense of longing trails each autumn
a leaf makes a change of costume and
spirals away in a colourful farewell dance
the year makes a ceremonious bidding
before turning earth into a page of white
for us to shower our memory of each day
leaf by leaf the wind tears away autumn
orchestrating a skeletal frame to rake our
thoughts about the year, instilling the
anticipation for the comeback of another
sparkling spring, blazing summer...
autumn helps us compose the days
when we shed the clothes for a new
spring and sunbath a new shade,
a charged bodice every cell
surges in a burst of portent energy
every autumn leaves an aftertaste of
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poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Oddfellowship in Woodstock
Well tell a tale, it shall be brief
It is of rise of Maple Leaf,
From noble Olive Branch it sprung,
And its good deeds shall yet be sung ;
This Encampment, though in its youth,
Glories in friendship, love, and truth
Of all our lodges yet the chief
May be this youthful Maple Leaf ;
Built of good timber, it doth launch
Well worthy of the Olive Branch,
And though it only is a shoot
We hope that it will take deep root,
And soon be vigorous Maple tree
In Canada so broad and free.
And may its usefulness ne'er cease
Sprung from the Olive Branch of peace,
But comfort brothers in distress,
Widows and orphans it will bless,
And console them in their grief,
Protected by the Maple Leaf.
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poem by James McIntyre
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Crossbar of Wood of Tree Waru
Tree, green of leaf and yellow of colour of flower waru
One in fence which close with the tree, leaf, and shoe flower
When I hence shoe
I see the that mother eye circumference is blue
Her heart of greeve of doily on above white cloth
A mother sit the above wood chair
her body is which coherent selnder of clothes
ruddle the shoe flower
at the same time her arms once in a while
keeps out of the dirt Iust
that Men swirl her lheart lake deepness in worried
water level its Face is calm to keep distortion
Hurt at her blue heart
When extinct lamp
newly I know
he sing happily the greeve of song
at the same time its days doily silent
what always reecho in her heart wall
by past dirt
at the same time close the door
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poem by Prasetya Utama
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Bridge, The
I once
as a young boy
stood on a little
wooden country bridge;
tip-toed to look at
the languid moving water
Tomorrow popped up -
the wind that had blown in
tore off a leaf from
a tall standing tree
roots entrenched
by the water's edge
and this leaf
wafted and fluttered
and glided into the
current below
taken bodily
where gravity pulls
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poem by Frederick Kesner
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The Caterpillar
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A creeping, coloured caterpillar,
I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn spray,
I nibble it leaf by leaf away.
Down beneath grow dandelions,
Daisies, old-man’s-looking-glasses;
Rooks flap croaking across the lane.
I eat and swallow and eat again.
Here come raindrops helter-skelter;
I munch and nibble unregarding:
Hawthorn leaves are juicy and firm.
I’ll mind my business: I’m a good worm.
When I’m old, tired, melancholy,
I’ll build a leaf-green mausoleum
Close by, here on this lovely spray,
And die and dream the ages away.
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poem by Robert Graves
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The Gardener
WITHIN this garden space are set
Sweet mignonette and violet,
Sunk in rich mould; at dawn and night
Their leaves dew-wet.
Who set them in the kindly loam
Lies buried 'neath the clover-foam
Of alien meadows, far away
From his loved home.
If it be glory thus to pass
For Honour's sake, and 'neath the grass
Red-wounded lie, then he, in truth,
Great glory has.
Yet, blossoms that he loved and set! —
Sweet mignonette, sweet violet —
Not Honour's self, nor Glory's crown,
Can stay regret.
'Twixt bud of leaf and fall of leaf,
Why should Fate in an hour so brief
Wreck flower and flower, and nurse alone
The cypress — Grief?
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poem by Roderic Quinn
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