Every day as I stroll through my neighbourhood, I am taken by the beauty and colour of the autumn leaves, and I think about all the poets who have written poems to capture such a glorious fall scene.
For your reading pleasure, here is the first stanza of a poem titled Autumn, by John Clare, 1821.
And yellow is the woodland bough;
And every leaf of bush and weed
Is tipt with autumn’s pencil now.
No comments:
Post a Comment