I sat on a bench,
and watched the autumn leave fall.
A gentle breeze would shake them loose,
until they drifted to the ground.
Soon there is a carpet of leaves,
red, yellow and brown,
dancing with the wind
inches above the ground.
Another season ending,
as the autumn leave come drift down.
Winter would soon be here,
with another carpet grand.
This one would be a carpet white with snow,
and would stretch right across the land.
Another carpet for another season
would soon be close at hand.
I love your carpet metaphor - a different one for each season. Yes. The image is most appealing - as is this delightful autumnal poem. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Don't talk to me about leaves, no sooner have you cleaned them off your path, when your up to your knees again, why can't they grow evergreens...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mr Harris What a fantastic poem