365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)

You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: :)

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Sonnet CXLI

The leaves are ripening to rosy reds,
vermilion and orange, gold and brown.
Like fruit, their colour deepens in their heads,
unlike them, feed our ears with crinkly sounds.

When fallen, ripened leaves fill lovely beds
and feed the grass as well, its life endowed.
For from the trees those ripened fruits are dead,
but bring new life from where they strangely drowned.

But glabrous leaves feed more than worms and such,
they feed the eyes with multicoloured hues.
Thus autumn cheers the soul, the eyes, the mind
with its enticing, rainbow-coloured touch,
which by a happy home above imbued
with vibrant hues and usefulness combined.

No comments:

Post a Comment

A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!