Wednesday, November 2, 2011


How silently they tumble down

And come to rest upon the ground

To lay a carpet,
rich and rare,

Beneath the trees without a care,

Content to sleep, their work well done, 

Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times,
they wildly fly

Until they nearly
reach the sky.

Twisting, turning
through the air

Till all the trees stand
stark and bare.

Exhausted, drop
to earth below

           To wait, like children,
                for the snow.

                        ~ Elsie N. Brady ~


  1. Loved this playful little poem... I accidentally squeezed the words to the right, and then thought it made them look like falling leaves themselves... love happy accidents :)

    The photos were taken around my home in the evening a few days ago. I played around with brightness/contrast, and intensified the blue to bring out the orange and gold. Hope you liked it!

  2. Nice tribute to the leaves, the photos look professional, just a lovely job!

  3. I love the effect of your 'accident':) This post evoked in me such a tenderness for the brave 'last-leafs of fall that I had to give my 'Halls' poem one last crack. Second-time-around-muse is never like the first time, but it offered up words with a whole new shade after reading this. Thank-you for sharing. I really like your photos. Megan, I am going to post a picture that Melissa is working on. It is a pastel and chalk portrait of her sister Victoria lounging on the couch. I took a picture of the one she did in the spring as well. She said she would be more than happy to hear any suggestions you might have.

  4. Hey Magen from the open skies of Ohio -- I've been challenging myself to write more concisely, so I've been limitig myself, at first, to 100 words or less, now it is 75 words or less on a piece of art or photo or image that inspires me, not so much as to describe it but how it inspires me to tell a story, so here goes ... While walking in my yellow rubber boots, the reflection of a leaf in kaliedescope beckoned me as it moved from the puddle into stream, a whirl of orange, burgundy and gold. I chased it, but it took an unexpected turn and headed toward the curbside drain. I scooped it up in my hand before its plunder, but I wondered what would have been its fate had I not rescued it before going down under... Blessings Terri

  5. Wow Terri, that was beautiful! Love your story/poem... wonderful imagery in your words :) Thanks for stopping by!


“Kind words can be short and easy to speak,
but their echoes are truly endless.”

~ Mother Teresa