As I glanced out the window this evening, I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was dusky already, yet seemed too early. It is a sign.
As I sit on my bed with the window ajar, I can feel a cool wind with a bit if a nip on my bare arms. It is a sign.
These signs are telling me that Autumn is on the way. I feel sad as summer was....well it was.....well...honestly....POO! I wish I could've sent the rain away to countries that really needed it.
But I am not too sad to say goodbye to summer, as I love Autumn too. I love the trees in their golden coats, slowly shedding it to make a golden-brown carpet at their feet. I love seeing trees in the bare bones.
This time of year my favourite poem sings in my head constantly.
Trees by
Joyce Kilmer.
I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Joyce Kilmer.
I THINK that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
(photo courtesy of my telegraph.co.uk)
