The bright orange of the oak leaf against the deep, moist green of the trunk creates a contrasting composition. With their mirroring textures, it is as though the oak leaf and its tree are serenading each other with the song of autumn.
Inspirational Poems
A Song of Autumn
By Adam Lindsay Gordon
‘WHERE shall we go for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year,
When the burnt-up banks are yellow and sad,
When the boughs are yellow and sere?
Where are the old ones that once we had,
And when are the new ones near?
What shall we do for our garlands glad
At the falling of the year?’
‘Child! can I tell where the garlands go?
Can I say where the lost leaves veer
On the brown-burnt banks, when the wild winds blow,
When they drift through the dead-wood drear?
Girl! when the garlands of next year glow,
You may gather again, my dear—
But I go where the last year’s lost leaves go
At the falling of the year.’
Autumn Song,
By Paul Verlaine
Translation by Eli Siegel
The long sighs
Of the violins
Of autumn
Hurt my heart
With a languor
Of sameness.
All stifling
And pale, when
The hour sounds,
I remember
Days of once
And I weep.
And I let myself go
With the evil wind
Which carries me
Here, beyond,
Like the leaf
Which has died.
THE OAK LEAF
It landed upon my window shield; so proudly it displayed
the color of its’ dying days; bright orange, browns and grays.
I watched it as I drove away, hinged deeply as it could
Not giving up its chosen spot, it slid beneath my hood.
Thirty miles I drove today; it stayed till I returned
Until I picked it up, you see, it lay there undisturbed.
I flicked the leaf toward the ground; it would not take the route
Instead the leaf blew back at me; upon my coat it glued.
Not wanting to disrupt my day, I quickly threw it down
And there it landed at my feet; so lonely on the ground.
I entered office and went to see; the messages of my day
Surprised to find a cyber note; the petal sent my way.
From a friend, Lynn Barry dear, you gave away your thoughts
The roses sent to you one day; the petals you did drop
Through space they came to everyone as sweet as sugarplums.
Quickly, I ran back to get the leaf upon the ground
I picked it up and thought of you; a rose petal I had found.
by Joyce L. Rapier