Fallen leaves
Blown by Autumn’s breeze
Follow me
Into my residence.
There can be
No pretence
In these piling leaves
Of immortality.
But others will hear
The breeze
And see autumn leaves
Blowing near
In other years
When I am gone,
And as one
With leaves.
The leaves lie thicker on the path
Than the last time I passed.
I can not count them.
But, like we men
All leaves fall
And rhymes
End
I leave dry leaves behind.
Yet, I find
Leaves still whisper to me
Of my mortality.
Often they sound the same as rain.
I will return again
For they are part of my heart.
And poetry may live on
When I am gone.
While the rain will remain
There have been countless men
Over the centuries. But when
The poet sees a myriad fallen leaves
He knows these leaves must outnumber men.
And men fall like leaves.
These fallen leaves
Blown by Autumn breeze
Call to me
And say, “be free”
The wild wind
Blows strong and free.
While these leaves
Blow hither and thither
In the breeze.
I would rather be
The eternal wind.
But if I could fly
Like these Autumn leaves.
I might, for a while
Feel I was free.
These fallen leaves
On the cold January ground
Send a message profound.
I am bound
To be as these leaves
And fertilize the ground.
I do not fear
Another dying year
But simply pass
Along the churchyard path
Observing these fallen leaves.
Autumn does not deceive.
But lust
Does, I find
Distract the mind
From dust,
While autumn time reminds
Us that we all
As autumn leaves
Must fall.
On an autumn day
I heard the sound
Of children at play.
My brown
Has gone grey.
Leaves fall
And the ground
Takes all
Our leaves away.
At night
I rhyme
Of scattered leaves
And fleeting time.
In her rush
A young woman’s heels
Cruelly crush leaves.
The ageing poet sees
Autumn has come.
He feels girl’s heels
Carelessly kick away
The once green leaves
Of his May.
K Morris - Poet 