Ah, November. The gray month. Windy. Rainy. Cold. But the poets have a plethora of material for writing poems on November.
Take your time to read these few excerpts of poems from various writers:
The naked, silent trees have taught me this,—
The loss of beauty is not always loss!
The loss of beauty is not always loss!
– Elizabeth Stoddard
Listen.
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees
And fall.
by Adelaide Crapsey
Our twilight month November is,
The evening of the year.
The brilliant summer noontide left
A pallor soft and clear.
--by Ruby Archer
Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!
One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air,
Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran,
Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare.
One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,
And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast,
And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee
Shall murmur by the hedge that skim the way,
The cricket chirp upon the russet lea,
And man delight to linger in thy ray.
Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear
The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air.
--by William Cullen Bryant
Enough said?
