There's nothing better in this world than curling up next to a warm fire with a good book. It's the cosy, cottage-core lifestyle that many people dream of having. In a traditional sense, it's almost romantic.
Autumn as a season is often a time of change in literature and nature. The trees lose their leaves, the skies darken earlier and earlier. Flowers wilt and die, as Winter comes to take its place. And yet through this difficult time of change, such great works of art have been created.
Writers who have woven great majesties into their papers and books have taken Autumn as a champion would a lady's favour. Despite the looming death associated with Autumn, we still have found ways to make it a beautiful season. One of optimism that after Winter, comes the dawn of Spring and the promise of Summer.
To illustrate this point, here are some of the most famous poems about Autumn: how their leafy, flower-based text matches greatly with eco friendly Autumn dried flowers by Amaranté. Perhaps you know a friend or have a loved one who loves poetry? Why not treat them to ethical and sustainable gifts based on these famous poems? They're sure to appreciate flowers along with their favourite writers.
An Ethical Gift to Make all the Difference
Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” is a seminal poem, with a multitude of depth. Much like its subject matter, the way you analyse the text says something about you. You can choose to see the "less travelled by" as the correct way forward. The choice of doing the unusual or lesser undertaken decision is seemingly lauded. However, Frost implies that this decision would be remembered with a "Sigh". This vagueness could imply satisfaction in a life well spent or regret of having tried to be different.
Whether or not the difference in route is the right one defeats the purpose of the text—the agony of decision, the stuck nature of the narrator. The time it takes to decide which route takes up three stanzas, a whole 3/4s of the short poem. This agonising is the true sigh and regret of the poem. The indecision, not the final decision, is what defines the narrator. They are stricken with fear that their decision will be wrong rather than taking joy in making it or travelling without thought.
This indecision, a nature fixed in two different points of time, an uncertainty, is often a feature of Frost's poems. He enjoyed giving a simple answer to his poems on a simple reading. But to the trained eye, a depth and nuance that is not immediately shown. This hidden complexity is so indicative of the Autumn time. Though the trees look dead, and the leaves crunch like bones beneath your feet, there is beauty to be found. The leaves and trees provide food and shelter for thousands of creatures. The mulch becomes fertiliser to help grow the plants and trees that need to survive the harsh Winter. Autumn is a necessary evil to create a beautiful world when Spring inevitably comes again.
The Fallen Leaves Autumn Bouquet makes for the perfect encapsulation of Frost’s hidden significance. The preserved flowers are the perfect sustainable and ethical gift: flowers that hold beauty beyond their years. There is also a sadness about them, a subdued colouring perfect for sympathy flowers. Indeed, the more you look at these burnt colours of yellow and browning reds, the more it feels like that forked road in the "Yellow Wood". A tree sentinel between a happier or sadder life if we only cut off our indecision and make the better choice.
An Ode to Autumn Flowers
John Keats’ “To Autumn” follows a similar feeling from Frost towards the harvest season. It describes Autumn as a transitionary period, a season "Of mists and mellow fruitfulness". It is a subdued, honorific poem that is often interpreted as a meditation on death, a classicalist allegory. The end of days for one life and the beginning of another.
It describes the sectioning of Autumn and its feelings. Beginning with the fruitfulness of the season, the harvests collected, and the inevitable death that finishes it. There is not the decisiveness that is the theme of Frost's poem, where one can take control of their life and make the world as they need it so. To Keats, Autumn is inevitable. A coming of times to end the joys of Summer and prepare for the cold of Winter, where death lies waiting.
For Keats, the "Songs of Spring" will never come. They are not for him, nor us, as we carry on through life. This poem was written at a time when Keats had to give up poetry to pursue money-making activities. So there is a sense of melancholy about it. A feeling of giving up the old and familiar and embracing the unknown beyond. One where the "Hedge-crickets sing…" and "…The red breasts whistles"
Lilac Skies Bouquet makes for the perfect accompaniment to Keat’s final poem. A stunning array of flowers made darker like the dusky sky. An end of things that have been, and a promise of Spring to come. Though Keats tells us not to think about the songs of Spring, these sustainable gifts will inevitably force the mind to wander. We will want to see beyond the gloom of darkness into the joys that will come, the popping of colour in the light lilacs and soft pinks.
The Bard’s Take on Autumn
Finishing these sets of glorious poems, we can't not mention Shakespeare himself. Sonnet 73 begins stunningly, as all his sonnets tend to, with "That time of year thou mayst in me behold. When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang". Immediately, Shakespeare invokes these dark images of barren or lifeless trees. Where "Late the sweet birds sang" but are now abandoned.
Like Keats, there is a surrender to nature in this poem. A sense of inevitability. That the "Twilight" of life is constantly on the horizon: We are all simply the collection of "ashes" of our youth, slowly burning fire within us that will, one day, burn out. And yet, there is beauty in this.
Though Shakespeare's thought of Autumn is almost hopeless, focused on the Twilight of beauty and love, there is hope within the final two lines. Despite how one perceives the fleeting nature of life, the inevitable call of the death knell we all hear grows louder every day, and love grows on. Love grows despite this. Love becomes "More strong" in the sight of all our weaknesses of age upon our deathbeds. We love despite our fragility because we know it is so fleeting. This fleeting love is special, is significant to our lives. Though it pains us to love well that "Which thou must leave ere long", it is worth the suffering.
The Tender Bloom Autumn Dried Flowers make for the perfect accompaniment to this poem. A set of dull, earthy tones which betray within the smallest hope for beauty. Pops of yellow and red and even pink love colours make it hopeful. Despite the more oppressive tone, there is a sense of joy within these flowers.
The Times they are a-changing
Like with all these poems, Autumn is a season of change. But there is an acceptance of it. A changing of ways is the natural order of things. The more we cling tightly to the choices we made or didn't make or the fear of change. The more we fear what comes after this time, the more we depress ourselves. Life is not made to be perfectly known from start to finish. Rather, it is made to be experienced, as these fine writers experienced in their lives.
Perhaps none of these poems works for you or inspires some beauty. Why not write your poem? Join the choir of thousands before you who have written of their lives and their joys or sorrows. The more we see poetry in the world, the more our lives are immortalised forever in meaning, significance and beauty. Show that art can thrive even in the darkest tunnels of life.
