O falling leaves,
O'er you compassionate tender-fingered eves
Draw a white mist for shroud, O falling leaves!
The poignant thrush
Singeth your fall, while careless footsteps crush
And pass unheeding you, wind-stricken leaves;
And from the sky
Sun, moon, and stars look on indifferently,
As you had never lived, O dying leaves!
A teasing wind
Rattles among the branches hourly-thinned,
Driving a fugitive army of you, wild leaves;
And no more now
Shall you like jewels hang on every bough
In th' bright dew-nourished morn, O pallid leaves
But the wise Earth,
In whom all present death is promised birth,
Takes you — and us who fall like you, O leaves!
~~
John Freeman (1880-1929)
from Twenty Poems, 1909
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
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John Fowler, Falling Leaves, 2012. CC BY 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.
I shall make a note of the unusual rhythmic pattern employed by John Fowler: first line of each stanza, tetrameter, giving a brief introduction to each stanza. The first line of each stanza is followed by 2 lines of iambic pentameter (some variation). Speaks of the plight of leaves in the fall. Reverent poem. Lovely! Thanks for sharing George! 💟💟💟💟💟💟
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