I swept a mess of leaves
clear off the deck and steps.
A gust wind came up
and blew them back to me.
Then sheets of rain came down
and plastered leaves to wood
making such a mucky mess
I retreated to the house.
This game's no longer fun.
Let Mother Nature have her way.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Leaves by Frieda Risvold )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(12 October 1875 - 1 December 1947)
(1923 - 1998)
(1644 - 1694)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Will there really be a "Morning"?, Emily Dickinson
- I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Poem of the Day
- To speak untruth, hasmukh amathalal
- Sleep Well Love, Michael P. McParland
- Sleep Tight Sweet Lady, Michael P. McParland
- Stable in life, hasmukh amathalal
- Sleep Tight Dear One, Michael P. McParland
- Now i have a taste for eden, cristobal Benjumea
- Sitting Here, Michael P. McParland
- Simple Words 3, Michael P. McParland
- Simple Words 2, Michael P. McParland
- Simple Words, Michael P. McParland