| General Poetry
posted November 19, 2023 |
(A thoughtful conversation)
The Last Leaf
As twilight waned, a gentle breeze
Brushed softly through the mighty oak
Exposed, its barren branches longed
For what had been its golden cloak
But one last leaf detached and lone
From high above while floating free
Embarked in thoughtful conversation
With the naked, aged-old tree
“Why the sigh?” the leaf did probe
In fluttering descent
While taking care to listen close
And comprehend the oak’s lament
“I’d love to hear your stories
As I frolic up and down
For dare I have but just a while
Before I light upon the ground.”
“I’m musing all my seasons past
Their splendors tucked in memory
And Mother Nature’s brilliant plans
To show them off so poignantly.”
“I long to feel the Robin’s nest
Tucked snuggly in my shelt’ring boughs
Until their tiny eggs do crack
And springtime baby birds arouse.”
“I thirst to taste the drops of dew
That blest each early morning rise
And hear the buzzing honey bees
Encircle round their busy hives.”
“I yearn to sense the summer heat
Laze heavy through my verdant leaves
While shielding sweet young couples
As they picnic ‘neath their shaded eaves.”
“And when at last the basking sun
Ebbs slowly into autumn’s blush
When cooling winds and harvest mark
The soon-to-come of winter months,
I’ll miss the glow in fiery show
Of color spread throughout my girth
‘Til one-by-one my patches gold
Submit their hold and fall to earth.”
“Oh Mighty Oak, how proud I’ve been
To share with you the seasons past
And as I reach my final rest
Beneath your stately frame, at last
Though only one en-masse to fall
I’ll gather with my brothers, too,
In hopes to blanket round your bark
To help protect and shelter you.”
“For this, my precious drifting leaf
I tender thanks and humbly yield
That time has come for Mother Nature’s
Winter land to be revealed.
And though she’ll bare a bitter cold
And storm her winter’s angry moan
Upon my limbs, she’ll grace with snow
Revealing calm her gentle tone.”
Then as the last leaf touched the ground
The Mighty Oak had near succumbed
To passive sleep and dormancy
For winter-seasoned months to come
When sudden - round the aged-old tree
A dauntless gust of wind took wrath
And seized in hold the mound of gold
It found to be within its path
With one last sigh, the Mighty Oak
Swayed gracious towards the leaf’s new flight…
“Til Mother Nature blooms next Spring...
Goodnight, Last Leaf, Goodnight!"
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Writing Prompt
Write a poem about autumn that uses a rhyming pattern. It should be clear what the pattern is, such as aabb, abab, or abca, etc?
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Autumn Poetry Contest Winner
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Recognized
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A personified tale of the last leaf to fall from the Mighty Oak and their heartfelt conversation of the seasons past.
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Mimi Linny
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Mimi Linny
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