Changing of Seasons and Turning of Leaves Through Poetry

O! lure of the Lost Lagoon, I dream to-night that my paddle blurs The purple shade where the seaweed stirs, I hear the call of the singing firs. — Emily Pauline Johnson Tim Johnson

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start, And all the trembling flowers they bear. — William Butler Yeats Ray Ewing

And on a day we meet to walk the line And set the wall between us once again. We keep the wall between us as we go. To each the boulders that have fallen to each. — Robert Frost Tim Johnson

I learned not to fear infinity, The far field, the windy cliffs of forever, The dying of time in the white light of tomorrow. — Theodore Roethke Ray Ewing

Oh, the charm of idle dreaming Where the dappled shadows dance, All the leafy aisles are teeming With the lure of old romance! — Lucy Maud Montgomery Tim Johnson

When the trees their summer splendor Change to raiment red and gold, When the summer moon turns mellow, And the nights are getting cold. — Carol L. Riser Ray Ewing

I've known rivers: Ancient, dusky rivers. My soul has grown deep like the rivers. — Langston Hughes Tim Johnson

Do our woods And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods, More shining winds, more star glimmering ponds? — William Butler Yeats Ray Ewing

Oh, the river that meanders has an aimless kind of flow… in the sense that such a river seems to not know where to go. Is it right or left, or left or right? Who cares? And I don’t know. — Kenton M. Stewart Tim Johnson