Quotes about leaf, page 21
Dryads
When meadows are grey with the morn
In the dusk of the woods it is night:
The oak and the birch and the pine
War with the glimmer of light.
Dryads brown as the leaf
Move in the gloom of the glade;
When meadows are grey with the morn
Dim night in the wood has delayed.
The cocks that crow to the land
Are faint and hollow and shrill:
Dryads brown as the leaf
Whisper, and hide, and are still.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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A Pecan Tree
The Pecan tree, he's no one's fool,
My papi once told me.
As long as the weather still is cool,
Not a single leaf, on him you'll see.
Sometimes it's May, or maybe June,
Before his leaves appear.
He never sports new clothes too soon,
Not until the weather's clear.
But once in leaf, no tree around,
Comes close to the Pecan.
With shade and fruit, he does abound,
Standing in the Texas sun.
4/3/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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View From A Height
Sharp wind, towering sky, apes howling mournfully;
untouched island, white sand, birds flying in circles.
Infinite forest, bleakly shedding leaf after leaf;
inexhaustible river, rolling on wave after wave.
Through a thousand miles of melancholy autumn, I travel;
carrying a hundred years of sickness, I climb to this terrace.
Hardship and bitter regret have frosted my temples--
and what torments me most? Giving up wine!
The End
Death, the final equalizer;
be it a leaf, human or star
their end is inevitable.
Can it easily be conceived?
will it truly be understood?
Do their unique differences:
diminutive or gigantic
change deaths meaning and concept?
Does any of that matter much?
Humans perceive death as macabre
a horror of loss and decay.
leaf and star suffer the same fate
yet both lives end naturally
without a promised afterlife.
Octal Syllabic Verse
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Sunny Afternoon
A branch rocks me in the deep blue.
In the frolicking, autumnal leaf-tangle
Moths flicker, intoxicated and crazy.
Ax blows resound in the floodplain.
My mouth bites into red berries
And light and shadows sway in the foliage.
For hours golden dust falls
Crackling in the brown ground.
The thrush laughs from the bushes
And frolicking and loudly the autumnal leaf-tangle
[...] Read more
poem by Georg Trakl
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Looking Back At The Greens
i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Watching The Flowers
i open the window
and look out to the garden below
the rain just stopped
and every leaf had the share of the
morning shower
dewy, each leaf smiles
each flower opens each petal anticipating
the sun
fingers of sunlight arrive
and there is touching and hugging
and kissing
light to dew to leaves
flowers to the rays of the sun
such a joy
like an early morning chat with a friend
you haven't had a talk for days
and you discuss
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Simile's Candid Mirror
like a blazing gold leaf
clinging to the autumn tree
like a tarnished diamond
amidst jagged glass
like a punctured tire
gasping for air
like a lamp
with a burned out bulb
like a flashlight
with dead batteries
like a fountain
with no youth
like rusted pennies
with no wishes
like a sink
with no dishes
like super glue
with nothing to hold together
the leaf falls flat on a dark, cheapened ground, old
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poem by Jacob Erincilberto
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I Was There On High
i was there on high
for a time and i like it
but nothing lasts
so they say
and i know and then
i fall like a leaf from a tree
and so they say once again
nothing lasts forever
and i know and then
i fall to the ground like
a sick bird from the sky
but i did not die
and i know and then
i really accepted it
like a cup of my tea
and now you too
shall fall like a leaf
from that tree but
don't you worry
we are here down
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Birth Of The Yellow Butterfly
on the gumamela leaf
the small cocoon hangs
there for days and
you wait for the
usual surprise in this
garden
it wriggles out and
pulls itself from
a tight house
it holds itself at the
tip of the leaf and
gets a fan from
the wind and then
stretches itself
and spreads its
wings and finally
flies away
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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