An Autumn Tale

The trees were talking in foreign tongues,

The leaves had plenty to say,

As he stood deep in the golden grove

Watching the treetops sway.

A gentle breeze had caught at their breath

To carry their whispered tales,

From tree to tree in the woodland depth

While the Autumn winds prevailed.

 

And golden leaves lay thick at their feet

A magic carpet of death,

Fluttering down with their lives complete

At the time of their final breath.

But she lay still on a mound of leaves

And smiled at the man she loved,

While he looked up like a man who grieves

At the sway of the trees above.

 

‘Why is the Autumn fall so sad,

Could it be that they feel like us?

Their Summer went, and at last they’re spent

And fall from the trees like dross.’

‘They’ve had their season of love,’ she sighed,

‘While ours is still ahead,’

‘But even we,’ he had then replied,

‘Face the day when we’ll both be dead.’

 

He joined her down on the bed of leaves

And she kissed his lips and his brow,

‘I never think about death,’ she said,

‘But only the here and now.’

‘Don’t you listen to what’s been said,

Those fluttering leaves in the air,

They’re asking, what’s it like to be dead

In a tone of utter despair.’

 

‘How could you know just what they say,

They’re swaying trees in the breeze,

There isn’t a dictionary, per se,

That a man can follow with ease.’

‘Haven’t you heard the tender moan

They make, when the wind soughs through,

Their sadness echoes in every tone

And it kills me, looking at you.’

 

‘You have to stop, you’re frightening me,’

She said as she pulled away,

‘I thought that we came to make sweet love

On a beautful Autumn day.’

‘But what will we think when our skin is dry,

And wrinkled, so many years,

Maybe the love that we feel today

Will lie in a horse-drawn hearse.’

 

He looked again and he watched her age

So brittle, an Autumn leaf,

Dry and brown, he was looking down

While she stared with eyes of grief.

‘You've taken away our springtime, Joe,

And reached for the Autumn rain,

I only know that I have to go

And I’ll not come here again!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[B]

Oh my dear God
David that is beyond amazing
Oh my

Romance
thrill
A little horror
And romance again

Sometimes when we feel for another
We just imagine them going away for any reason
And we just can not stomach that
The body refuses it

Like those two here
and how the leaf remains
a mark of her

Oh my god again
Waw

[Valentine]

This is partially how life seems. We start as a small bud, grow and live our lives, then whither and die. I love the autumn best of all the seasons, it is so beautiful but lasts such a short time. We had best enjoy all of the years granted to us before that hearse carries us away.. A write that makes thinking almost enjoyable. Valentine

[Marie]

It's no use spoiling the present with thought of a dismal future or an unhappy past. Age should not lessen love but make it more beautiful.

[Confuser]

David; my favorite again!!! You know I'm a fan, and you continue to deliver such beautiful powerful poetry with wonderful descriptions, a unparallelled imagination that evokes both sadness and joyful imagery, ever reaching farther into the atmosphere. Age is something we all think of, and you made me think of the beautiful nature, the forest I love, the comparisons are delightful to read. And you managed to add all that lovely romantic spice as well. The ending is riveting, really the entire poem. Just gorgeous! Thank you so very much. Dale

[Gerry Legister]

You have carried this great subject into my heart on a magic carpet, it is well written, and has a nice ending, especially the line that caught my attention on a horse drawn hearse with eyes of grief.

[Tomás Ó C..]

Fear of age and celebration of ghe moment for we are never as young again as we are today... ripping read!