David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
Of Golden Leaves
‘Tis time to mend this wounded heart
Since it slowed to a miniscule beat
To see with my eyes the face of the world
And say ‘hello’ to all I greet.
My days are now of golden leaf
The fruit has passed its sell-by date
And the best of love has now gone,
The distance travelled has been great
And I have sung loves only song.
New hopes and fears now line my path
As I travel down this road alone
And running nature’s ultimate course,
Past mistakes my soul does now atone.
We make a grave in our heart for our sorrow
And wait for a greater peace than we have known
When fear and worry no longer matter
After we have reaped what we have sown.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Of Golden Leaves by David Wood )
People who read David Wood also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings