I came across this poem and thought it would make a lovely accompaniment to the walks we’ve been taking along the little wooded path that fringes our neighborhood. Lots of oaks and beeches there (and maples, hickories, and dogwoods, too, but they aren’t in the poem) and lately our walks have been of the leaf-crunching-and-collecting sort. I thought Beanie especially would like the poem, and as I began to recite it to her, on a whim I changed “Mary” to her name. She beamed like I’d given her the moon. That was yesterday, and she has asked for “her” poem approximately once every waking hour since then. So I guess it’s a hit.
When Mary goes walking,
The autumn winds blow;
The poplars they curtsey,
The larches bend low.
The oaks and the beeches
Their gold they fling down
To make her a carpet,
To make her a crown.
—Patrick R. Chalmers
Here are some links to more autumn-themed poetry:
Graffiti for Butterflies
Poetry Friday: The Baby’s Contribution
Saturday Outing: Cabrillo National Monument
I Bet Mama Whales Never Feel Crowded at Night
Our Big Cross-Country Trip, Scrapbooked