Thursday, 15 May 2014

Last leaves

The Oak - Alfred Lord Tennyson

Live thy Life,
Young and old,
Like yon oak,
Bright in spring,
Living gold;

Summer-rich
Then; and then
Autumn-changed
Soberer-hued
Gold again.

All his leaves
Fall'n at length,
Look, he stands,
Trunk and bough
Naked strength. 


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Please remember to be kind, it's a nicer way to live and grow in the garden.