Behold a season's change, as bundles of twiglets are reaped,
and branches of birches are trimmed beyond a nearby den.
Lost in the gale, are the tidings of a storm approaching,
beyond the plentiful verdure of the quiescent glen.
There from upon a ford, a reflection from above could be seen,
within the depth of the flowing currents of the bustling stream.
And where the glint of the sun leaves behind, its sunset gleam.
Endless wondrous fields of pasture to roam and romp.
There covered with the auburn blooms, from afar near a clump.
The scent of madder red roses, perfume the foliage of tawny leaves.
Leaves to thus in verdure, be guided by the mild breeze.
There within the wistful depth of the shade of a nearby grove.
It is where man and woman together as lovers, could always rove.
They are the remnants of their everlasting love and gaiety.
There where two lover's names are engraved, in a mere oak tree.
A testimony of a love so interminable, and strengthen as it heaps.
There intertwined forever, to a cluster of autumn leaves.
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Comments about this poem (Autumn leaves by Franc Rodriguez )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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