If you listen you'll hear the falling leaves
tap on the ground an empty sound
Winds ne'er a whisper
Under the mellow sun
Shadows move on like thieves
Streets littered in colour sheaves
I do not hear grieving
Winds ne'er a whisper
Night follows my moonless walk
and trees shake
rattling leaves they heave
Winds ne'er a whisper
They say leave
We have nothing more to say
Of seasons past and what may
Winds ne'er a whisper
So I walk away
down the dark street
wondering why
winds ne'er whispered
Comments
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This year the autumn came as it always does but I found no wonder in the burning, no joy in frosty diamonds, no awe for the panting spectres inhaled and exhaled... This year has brought so many hard times, that I couldn't help but dread the autumn because I knew and know what follows... winter and all its forboding reality.
This poem brings to mind these realities and a recurrent thought that I have been experiencing:
Is beauty and poetry just another thing that needs to be afforded? Have I come to place in my life where I can not afford to wonder over a rose instead worry over a squash vine?
A great write that leaves something to think about for me.
s and best wishes always... ~Genie~
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I'm enthralled with but puzzled by your current
spectacular ease of scribing melancholic. You seemed to be effortlessly able to hold tight to a poetical inclination in superb
mastery on topic well.You've niched and knitted a mantel of great poetry writing. Not that I was ever less impressed in your works in the past. But these over the last week are phenomenal to say the least. And I do so adore the voice and mysteries of natures whispered messages.
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the reason behind this poem is me trying to fing my old psyque, losing my four pawed friend and all the troubles this year seems to have taken the voices of nature away, I can't hear them as well as I used to,
..I need the fun of life back into me..I know it'll happen..
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