6 Poems About Leaves

1. Green Leaves
   Poet: D. M. Mulock
   
   Nay, lift up thankful eyes, my sweet!
   Count equal, loss and gain.
   Because as long as this world lasts
   Green leaves will come again.
   
   For sure as earth lies under snows.
   And love lies under pain,
   'Tis good to sing with everything.
   When green leaves come again.




2. Flying Leaves
   Poet: Unknown
   
   "We're changing our dresses," the little leaves said,
   "For pretty fall colors of yellow and red.
   The frost king is making our garments so gay,
   And when they're all finished we're going away."
   
   So joyfully flying in each merry breeze,
   The gay little comrades are leaving the trees.
   While up on the branches that grew near the sky,
   The little nut babies are waving goodbye.
   
   The tired ones linger awhile in the nook.
   And then scurry onward to sail in the brook.
   The timid ones flutter around in the air;
   The bold ones are whirling off, no one knows where.
   
   The dear little leaflets, how glad they must be.
   After living all summer upon the same tree.
   To frolic together in such happy mirth.
   And then go to bye-low on dear Mother Earth.




3. The Lessons Of The Leaves
   Poet: Unknown
   
   How do the leaves grow,
   In spring, upon their stems?
   Oh! the sap swells up with a drop for all,
   And that is life to them.
   
   What do the leaves do
   Through the long summer hours,
   They make a home for the wandering birds,
   And shelter the wild flowers.
   
   How do the leaves fade
   Beneath the autumn blast?
   Oh! they fairer grow before they die,
   Their brightest is their last.
   
   We, too, are like leaves,
   O children! weak and small;
   God knows each leaf of the forest shade:
   He knows us, each and all.
   
   Never a leaf falls
   Until its part is done;
   God gives us grace, like sap, and then
   Some work to every one.
   
   We, too, must grow old,
   Beneath the autumn sky;
   But lovelier and brighter our lives may grow,
   Like leaves before they die.
   
   Brighter with kind deeds,
   With love to others given;
   Till the leaf falls off from the autumn tree,
   And the spirit is in heaven.



"How the Leaves Came Down," by Susan Coolidge appeals to children because it helps reconcile them to going to bed.
"I go to bed by day" is one of the crosses of childhood.

4. How the Leaves Came Down
   Poet: Susan Coolidge
   
   "I'll tell you how the leaves came down,"
   The great Tree to his children said:
   "You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown,
   Yes, very sleepy, little Red.
   It is quite time to go to bed."
   
   "Ah!" begged each silly, pouting leaf,
   "Let us a little longer stay;
   Dear Father Tree, behold our grief!
   'Tis such a very pleasant day,
   We do not want to go away."
   
   So, for just one more merry day
   To the great Tree the leaflets clung,
   Frolicked and danced, and had their way,
   Upon the autumn breezes swung,
   Whispering all their sports among -
   
   "Perhaps the great Tree will forget,
   And let us stay until the spring,
   If we all beg, and coax, and fret."
   But the great Tree did no such thing;
   He smiled to hear their whispering.
   
   "Come, children, all to bed," he cried;
   And ere the leaves could urge their prayer,
   He shook his head, and far and wide,
   Fluttering and rustling everywhere,
   Down sped the leaflets through the air.
   
   I saw them; on the ground they lay,
   Golden and red, a huddled swarm,
   Waiting till one from far away,
   White bedclothes heaped upon her arm,
   Should come to wrap them safe and warm.
   
   The great bare Tree looked down and smiled.
   "Good-night, dear little leaves," he said.
   And from below each sleepy child
   Replied, "Good-night," and murmured,
   "It is so nice to go to bed!"




5. The Law Of Life
   Poet: Elizabeth W. Denison
   
   A branch of yellow autumn leaves,
   So steeped in sunshine through and through
   They seemed like stuff that Nature weaves
   When all her homespun work she spurns,
   And from her loom, that glows and bums
   With all the splendors it achieves,
   Doth show what she loves best to do.
   
   I held it 'twixt me and the sun -
   The lovely, shining beechen spray;
   The breeze blew fresh, and one by one
   Came fluttering down the leaflets fair,
   Till all the twigs were brown and bare.
   "Ah! thus," I said, "my life doth run.
   And thus my hopes are thrown away."
   
   A foolish thought. In vision clear
   God's answer came to comfort me.
   "The golden hopes would soon be sere;
   They dropped away to leave a place
   For nobler life and richer grace;
   Behold where swelling buds appear.
   To crown anew the leafless tree!"




6. Leaves
   Poet: Henry W. Longfellow
   
   What the leaves are to the forest,
   With light and air for food,
   Ere their sweet and tender juices,
   Have been hardened into wood,
   
   That to the world are children;
   Through them it feels the glow
   Of a brighter and sunnier climate
   Than reaches the trunks below.