Apples for picking

Here is a poem that would be like one that my great grandma would have told me. SheGreat Grandma telling me a poem liked fall. She liked the leaves changing colors. We went on walks and watched the leaves fall.

ApplesWhile we were walking today we saw leaves falling and geese flying. That means it is almost fall!

I like the fall. I like to jump in the leaves after we rake them (so raking ties in with one of my favorite things in the fall). I like to find leaves and press them. I like to pick apples and make APPLESAUCE!

Something Told the Wild Geese

Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, “snow.”
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
But something cautioned, “frost.”
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spices
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly –
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
Rachel Field

3 thoughts on “Poem”

Comments are closed.