Enchanted by the glorious gold of our beech trees and their leaves falling this autumn.
A poem by John Paddy Browne from his book Not Thinking Straight resonates… just one of a beautiful and thoughtful collection, copies now available from Millersford Press.
Here are the last two stanzas from The Beech Leaves.
... But on a winter’s day that I recall We saw the beech leaves fall:
“We must gather them,” you said, And swept around. “They don’t decay, But rot the ground!” Seasons pass, And plain to see You don’t remember me Though the memory of that day Is as the beech leaves: It won’t decay But lies in the heart, Rotting the ground with your absence.
Copyright: John Paddy Browne
Comments