Golden Birches

Whenever I’m greeted,

by golden birches,

my mood is rather,

melancholy –

knowing that the summer is passing by.

Then my thoughts fly,

to when the spring was new,

when these birches,

just stepped into their gowns of green

and against the brilliant blue sky,

the tops of the birches,

would wave to me,

in the summer breeze.

Time passed,

just like a babbling brook,

that trips and falls,

over rocks on its way,

as if to say,

hurry, hurry and catch summer –

before it fades away.

Now along the path I wander

and I see in the sunlight,

some golden leaves upon the birches,

like gold coins,

hung from the branches

and I know that before long,

once again I’ll gaze upon golden birches –

when the autumn comes blowing in.

The golden leaves will be caught,

by the north winds

and then the sky will be filled –

with dancing golden leaves.

Like snowflakes in the winter,

they’ll come flying down

and before long,

there’ll be a carpet of gold,

beneath my feet,

that will mingle on the ground,

with the last of the wilting flowers,

in the field

and when the birches are bare,

I know to settle in for the winter,

even though through all the seasons,

there is some beauty

and upon cold winter days,

I’ll see their bare branches,

glittering in the hazy winter sun,

covered with ice and snow

and then I’ll reflect upon –

golden birches once more.


Latest posts by Rasma Raisters (see all)

Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

6 thoughts on “Golden Birches

  • November 20, 2017 at 9:18 AM

    Birches are so lovely and delicate looking, yet they are hardy and flow with the seasons. Your poem is lovely, Rasma. I enjoyed it very much.

  • November 20, 2017 at 6:03 PM

    Loved this piece Rasma and autumn is my favorite time of year, I would not know how to live in a world without autumns.

  • November 20, 2017 at 6:13 PM

    A lovely rendering of the nuances of change in seasons flow and of course the beautiful Birth, a tree of many clothes. great work Rasma.


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