Fall, Leaves, Fall – A Poem by Emily Bronte.

As the weather seems to have taken a turn for the worst, here is a poem by Emily Bronte that wishes for stormy, dramatic bad weather. 

Fall, Leaves, Fall.

 

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow

Blossom where the rose should grow;

I shall sing when night’s decay

Ushers in a drearier day.

 

Emily Bronte.

What is your favourite form of weather?

Charlotte

xoxo