This little leaf I hold in my hand,
for fear it should escape into the air
and take my joy, my memories and
leaving me greying in despair.
Upon Its crown it burns red and quaint,
like a painted star it is bright,
until it blackens with sadness faint,
and leaves its colours with nostalgic night.
'Tis a tree, a Covert of mine,
so it becomes a begetter of joy,
for it rewinds me to when I'd shine,
But now I'm lost; betwixt a man and a boy.
I love it! Not just the way it was written but the fact that you used colors to convey your emotions and then bluntly stated your problem at the end.BRAVO
A very sad and colorful poem. I love the way you describe the leaf to memories. Great work.
First poem in and I am really impressed. What a beautiful if a wee bit melancholy reflection to when life was maybe a little simpler. A connection between the dying leaf as a memory of the tree of youth, holding on dearly to those happy childhood. But then the hint of the idea that when the tree buds again a new chapter begins. And yes it is a difficult age, the transition into adulthood. That's where it took me and it sparked a memory of the age too.: -)
Nice one! ! ! It reminds me of something. Well more than one thing. You capture the feeling of nostalgia well.
Beautiful poem, full of meaning and very well written. A great metaphor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A touching poem. You can sense the emotion in every word. Very nice.