Autumn Wine
I watch a golden leaf
Come twirling to the ground.
How feather light it flutters
Through the tender morning air.
Somewhere, deep within my soul,
Its silent drifting flight
Is like a peal of thunder
From the late September sky.
A forest prophet blue jay,
Deep in a shady glen,
Prophesies that summer's end
Is sadly imminent.
I feel a sense of sorrow
That I do not understand:
Like something precious dying,
In the depths of my own soul.
Rejoice, O foolish heart,
And sip the autumn wine.
No season you have known
Can touch so tenderly.
Each autumn day is precious.
Waste not one fleeting hour.
And from the cup, spill not a drop;
It's the vintage of the year.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
