The change of seasons touches my soul and nothing seems to express the soul as well as poetry. I so admire poets who are able, in a few well placed words, to express a whole world of meaning. It's amazing to me how simple words strung together can say something that could take volumes to express only half as well. I found this peice by Emily Dickinson to share with my dear readers as it's short, but oh, so sweet.
Nature XXVII, Autumn
by Emily Dickinson
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
No comments:
Post a Comment