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Leaves – by Elsie N. Brady


How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.

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One response

  1. kay

    I love to see the leaves on the ground, and also when they twist and turn in the wind (like little cyclones).

    Also, I hope you will write some more poetry!

    November 10, 2010 at 07:05

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