A golden leaf falls to the ground,
As she, the tree, now sheds a tear;
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
A lifeless frond, now crisp and browned,
No longer green this time of year;
A golden leaf falls to the ground.
With tumult blowing all around
The leafy laden atmosphere,
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
Then gently floating downward bound
Rustic, wrinkled, dishevelled, sere;
A golden leaf falls to the ground.
Soon to rest, whereupon is drowned,
In a pool of foliage, near;
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
So, Autumn chills will sweep profound
And frantic winds at last appear;
A golden leaf falls to the ground
It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.
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Dear Poeter, Through the
Dear Poeter, Through the experiences that every human being learns in the journey of life, philosophies are explored by thoughts. Each of the moments in the library of memories is stacked into books. A poem reads as my mind breathes the air of autumn. I often recite these two specific lines of this poem. 'A golden leaf falls to the ground; It tumbles down with ne'er a sound.' All The Best My Dear Friend, Write More Congratulations
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