Season of Poetry
Season of Poetry
I wanted to write about poetry, because in the spring term the AP literature class has begun working on poetry and it’s National Poetry Month. How appropriate, because, for some reason, when I think of poetry, the image of reading a poem on a park bench in a beautiful spring weather (or autumn; I think I just associate it with not too cold or not too hot weather) and scenery of flowers.
I dislike and like poetry. There are some poems that just makes me go ‘huh?’ and stop reading anymore, but there are ones that I find greatly enjoyable and memorable. But more than reading one, I like writing one, not because it’s particularly fun but because there’s great joy and sense of satisfaction after the painful effort to rhyme, compose figuratively, count the syllables etc. I wrote a poem for an assignment back in the fall term, and I had wanted to share it on Glog then, but I eventually passed on the opportunity and wrote about something else then.
I think the season of poetry is a good time to post it (although it centers around the autumn scenery of fallen leaves 😀 ), so enjoy.
As the fallen leaves rustle
I hear young us bustle.
Our laughter can be heard.
Then you couldn’t spare a word.
As red maples cover where I walk
I see your face blush when we talk.
How what looked so vivid
can turn so utterly livid.
As I touch a leaf, wet and dreary
I hold the hands of you my deary.
They were vigorous and spotless;
they were inert and lifeless.
As the smell of wet leaves strikes me
So does your scent that lets me be
with you and live in another world
until at me, the truth is hurled.
Every year, as fallen leaves return
so does my memory of you as I turn
and look at that road I walk past.
Like that great tree, forever you last.
In those fallen leaves.