The Leaves Poem by Ernestine Northover
The Leaves
Winds whistle through the trees,
The breeze whispers and sends the leaves,
To glance off an unsuspecting tree trunk,
And then to execute a spirited bunk,
Zigzagging among the gnarled roots,
On the forest floor, which suits
Them very well, and there each one settles,
Surrounded by the stinging nettles,
To compost down and feed the ancient earth,
And then, in time, to constitute rebirth.
© Ernestine Northover
Dear Ernestine - One of my favorite things since I was tiny is watching the leaves in the trees while lying down, looking up, the sky shining through... This poem beautifully expresses apprecation for nature, from beginning to end to beginning again. Thank you!
Dear Ernestine, this is very strange as it has the hallmarks of a dream I had last night.I will try to feel the words and write poem about it soon I will call it 'The Call Of The Forrest'In your honour.Love Duncan
Beautiful imagistic poem. The variable rhythms of the lines & the constant appearance of stopped sounds, i.e. /p/, /t/, /k/, especially in lines 2-4, mirror the bumpy & 'zigzgging' (a very good term here) fall of the leaves till they hit the ground. Very skilfull use of rhyme too. It also somehow helps to mirror the bumps the leaves suffer in their 'zigzagging' way down. Beautiful imagery. Thanks for the read.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/20/2024 4:37:16 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This has a nice 'outdoorsy' feel to it....of course I'll love that. Sincerely, Mary