image: source unknown
by Siegfried Sassoon
How innocent were these Trees, that in
Mist-green May, blown by a prospering breeze,
Stood garlanded and gay;
Who now in sundown glow
Of serious colour clad confront me with their show
As though resigned and sad,
Trees, who unwhispering stand umber, bronze, gold;
Pavilioning the land for one grown tired and old;
Elm, chestnut, aspen and pine, I am merged in you,
Who tell once more in tones of time,
Your foliaged farewell.
Mist-green May, blown by a prospering breeze,
Stood garlanded and gay;
Who now in sundown glow
Of serious colour clad confront me with their show
As though resigned and sad,
Trees, who unwhispering stand umber, bronze, gold;
Pavilioning the land for one grown tired and old;
Elm, chestnut, aspen and pine, I am merged in you,
Who tell once more in tones of time,
Your foliaged farewell.
I find that rather sad - don't let's think of autumn as the end but rather just another phase and beneath the golden leaves are buds ready and waiting to be innocent May leaves!
ReplyDeleteJane
Yes, quite melancholic as Jane says, but beautiful nevertheless. Lesley x
ReplyDeletethank you for visit my christmas blog and for your comments, happy to hear about you ! big hugh Kathrin
ReplyDeleteBeautiful image! You have such a great blog here!
ReplyDeleteLove it :)
Short Poems