The last rose of summer is rapidly fading on the vine.
'Twas once as brilliant as a splendid claret Bordeaux wine.
Alas, autumn frosts hath wrought their deadly sting.
Thankfully, another will bring me pleasure come next spring!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw
I have determined to age with grace
To show off each wrinkle on my face.
I now accept there is more of me
Much more than there was at twenty three.
There’s a sprinkling of the salt in my hair
That mixes well with the pepper there.
The spring of my life has given way
To vibrant colors that will turn grey.
I know that Summer must bow to Fall
And then Fall will answer Winter’s call
Every age has beauty I've been told
There’s bitter sweet pain in growing old.
Copyright © Eileen Manassian
New Years Resolution?
Heck no, I don't care
Making time to suffer
I see no reason there
Eat a little less
lose the sugar and the salt
Eat a good dinner
that's what i was taught
Try to get some exercise
maybe lose some weight
Really, I have no problem
with my plus size waist
Slow down with your drinking
it's really not that cool
How do I have a real good time
if I don't act a fool
Stop that crazy driving
cut down on the road rage
If they don't want to drive
they better get out of my way
You need to stop smoking
it's bad for your health
You need to stop talking
and worry about yourself
Copyright © john loving iii
Driving to my job one February day,
Watching how the sky made everything seem gray.
I felt a little glum and uninspired.
Sunshine and verdant springtime I desired.
A shaft of light appeared from overhead.
It was as if my thoughts were being read!
Mesmerized, I gazed at the brilliant white.
Tinged with gold, it flooded sky with light.
I drove on, but a new thought filled my mind.
My happy spring would not be far behind.
Written 2/2/13 for Seren Roberts' Shaft of Light Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich
When twilight hangs on the silver of trees
In ways the boughs are draped with frost's release,
My tempo of whistling strides and feet unfurl
Beneath the dome of clouds, set in misty pearl.
Lilacs pose with sheen in a crystal dress
On branches gracing a season's finesse,
The nightingales coo of winter's refrain
Along roads where love finds sweet comfort gained.
In solace, I marvel at this jeweled hour
As lanterns guide my stroll through night's tower!
Juli- Michelles's Rhyme Battle, Round 3
by nette onclaud
Copyright © nette onclaud
< Cascading lakes and streams
The loon stands out it seems
Minnesota's state bird
I know it must sound absurd
Adopted in nineteen sixty one
Wails and yodels heard under the sun
Black and white bearing red eyes
Wingspans five feet can make one cry
Body lengths up to three feet
Yet clumsy on lands and moss peat
They are high speed flyers
And great underwater divers
They can dive up to ninety feet
In pursuit of fish they want to eat
They are even on our license plates
An critical habitat drawn on metal slates
Twelve thousand of these unique birds
God that has to be a lot of turds
But for now I'll enjoy it's captured views
Of this beautiful loon and it's most colorful hues
Written By Katherine Stella
Entry For Mini - Blog Beautiful Bird Contest
By Constance ~ A Rambling Poet
Copyright © Katherine Stella
The ashen wind fills wafts of day
that hides the sun, then drops away
into the early Autumn sky,
perhaps to dream, or just to die
like one leaf falling from a pear,
it stirs a final dream so fair,
a dream turning bleak reason’s flow,
it knows not which byway to go
through wrapped fields of taunting rain
it wanders, then comes back again
like beats winging the Autumn air,
so wondrously beyond compare.
The swans of life stir ever on,
and when the breaths of day is gone
they tumble through her mist- filled night,
as late dusk's jaws begin to bite.
The crying of a lonely night,
pine's branches drooping moonlit white
as sighing winds touch heaven’s gate,
without the need to stand and wait
for every roaming rainclouds' stare,
she needs to ask the why or where
in moments when pain veils her face
so sullen, yet so full of grace;
as her swan wings clutch twilight's hues
dripping tears from September's dues
yet, eyes open their crystal plumes
with hopes of flowers' newborn blooms
Contest: Joyce Johnson's The Rhyming Game
By: nette onclaud
Copyright © nette onclaud
Summer had her delights
With sunny days, warm nights.
Fall brings a little chill
Cool nights, frost on high hills.
Colors change upon trees
This for most surely please.
Now is time for amour
Did view you from afar
Now will learn who you are.
Long to ride upon your back
Hold your mane, feel your tack..
Contest: "Two To Fourteen"
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Copyright © Sara Kendrick
Crisp Autumn seeps through the day
Dew balances a fresh cut blade
Tangerine skies seethe God's Grace
Summer's vehment blaze...replaced
Slipping sweetness around my pillow
Cool winds dance with weeping willow
Stars twinkle down through thick dense trees
As spirits dance in fresh Autumn's breeze
Copyright © Jane Bowen
The nights seem longer, testament,
To summer’s toil, her seeds are spent
The blue moon grants us one more chance,
To thank the earth for sustenance
And dreams of winter’s thoughtful peace,
Beside the fire’s warm release
Of memories gained and stacked like wood,
Beside the hearth where hearts have stood
‘till spring again, when waters free,
To bless the earth from sea to sea
Copyright © James Marshall Goff
Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind
Memories and places they haunt yet again
Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf
Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream
A current to carry from birth right on through
Filling our moments with cares which ensue
A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends
Babies and children and time long since spent
Familiar, intangible, just out of reach
Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech
Winter is looming and summer is past
A time for remembrance the years gone so fast
Beauty is captured in my last breath of life
The sparkling colors in the warm golden light
Do mimic the glory and wonder be told
In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold
Copyright © Sara Ray
The air is fresh, mornings crisp and clear
God I do love this time of year
Vibrant colors abound on the trees
Gracefully falling with the breeze
The workday runs from sun to sun
Until the "Bringing in of the crops" is done
I am a lucky man to live this life
Respect of my community and loving wife
Sometimes in life the land yields plenty
The blessings throughout the day are many
As I watch the sunrise to the east
It gives my soul a spiritual feast
For all my friends everywhere
To my Lord a silent prayer
To the north her majesty appears
For all to see beautiful and clear
Forever snowcapped and standing tall
Lady Shasta watches over all
To the south another blessing to see
The Sutter Buttes clouded in mystery
It was the Lord that gave them their birth
The shortest mountain range on earth
The coastal mountains to the west
Offers the sun a place to rest
Followed shortly for all to see
The "Harvest Moon" clear as can be
Then comes a moment that is hard
As I head my "Cat" off to the yard
My final ride of this year
My face accepts a single tear
My heart becomes full of sorrow
I inject myself with poison tomorrow
Thats the price that a junkie must pay
Years after he has changed his way
The reason is very clear to see
I put myself "At risk" to hepatitis C
I can't stop the fear from flooding in
What will it be like to hold a rig again
Through all the loss and all the gain
I reckon that moment will bring me pain
But through the pain I'm able to see
God has his angels covering me
Copyright © Michael Jordan
The Great White Pumpkin
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Ghostly Pumpkin dull and white
Plans to give a ghastly fright.
Rough and tough his wrinkled skin
Mesmerizing twenty men.
Soon “Big Buddy” comes around.
Cuts a circle in his crown.
Jagged teeth and fearsome smile
Eyes and eyebrows carved in style.
Tasty innards scraped right out.
“Where's my nose?” White Pumpkin shouts!
Come on partner night grows dark.
Time to start the candle's spark.
Glowing eyes on front porch steps
Watch young goblins full of pep.
“Trick-or-Treat” the children chime.
Great White Pumpkin sings in time.
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Baseball seasons here
Starts when summer is near
If the first baseman catches the ball
I hope the ump makes a good call
Eating sunflower seeds
Winning is what we need
That means school being out is near
Until next year
by jake doyle
Copyright © Amy Merrell
Slowly the light comes into my eyes.
The morning is here and that's no surprise.
Thin lines of the sun's rays shine through.
An open curtain from across my bedroom.
My eyelids are heavy and feel so dry.
Trying to wipe the long sleep from my eye.
The tiniest particles of dust float softly from my bed.
Splatter across thin lines of light just above my head.
I wonder to myself, should I get up or just stay.
The covers so warm and wishing to remain this way.
The smell of fresh coffee is permeating the air.
Who could it be making hot coffee out there?
A bright new day has started for all of us, not just me.
Come into my dream with me and see how great it can be.
Copyright © Donald Williams
My garden is unfolding before my startled eyes.
Each blossom as it opens is a welcome, glad surprise.
The daffodils are blooming and spread sunshiny cheer,
While the tulips are struggling to hold up their heads this year.
The plum trees are in blossom, their branches snowy white,
Others playing possum keep their new buds closed up tight.
Rhododendrons showing color, camellias in full bloom,
The scene is ever changing in my outdoor living room.
Crocuses and small snowdrops are already past their prime.
Anemones and pansies are expected anytime.
A bunny in my garden is looking for a deal.
And eagle in my birch tree, eyes the bunny for a meal.
Oh my garden in the springtime is an optical delight,
While predators of every kind are looking for a bite.
I must find a way to thwart them without poisoning the land..
I will share with the less greedy, slugs and aphids must be banned.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson
Time for all seasons is his plan,
roaming all of nature’s land.
Flowers bloom, their brightness fade,
Waters of life, we drink and wade.
Flowers spent, with grief we cry,
gazing upon the heavens high.
In seek of comfort, joy, and peace,
birds sing soothing, grief release.
Breath of breeze whispers love,
from the Holy one above.
Trees of shelter for mortal man,
until He holds us in his hand.
Love and peace for eternity!
For: Brian Strand's
Poem of Faith Contest
Won Honorable Mention
July 1, 2010
Copyright © Carolyn Henderson
Potpourri of seasonal change drifts in the air.
Summer wanders near the clouds and everywhere.
Beach's pride of blazing sands is growing dim.
Soon the painted landscape wakes upon a whim.
Seeds are sown of Autumn's riches nearly here.
Summer wanes; we say hello to Autumn's cheer.
Leaves will change from sparkling green to golden blaze.
Now a bit of crispness lingers in our days.
Summer has it's wealth of fun and lovely weather.
Yet I adore the Fall when folks are drawn together.
Beauty all around and holidays I love.
Surely Autumn's sent to us from up above!
written August 31st, 2014
Copyright © Deb Wilson
I cherish the Christmas time of the year.
People are in the streets grinning ear to ear.
Children faces light up with joy.
Pondering on their favorite toy.
This the season we remember to give and share.
It is a way to let others know we really care.
We are told wise men came to a manger to seek
Later wise men would hear this child speak.
If I had but one Christmas wish,
It would be for you to know a Christmas bliss.
Edward J Ebbs - Christmas 2003
Copyright © Edward Ebbs
Somewhere in the city beneath the BLISSFUL sun
A gardener has planting to do with her green thumb
WHISPERING by are butterflies with ELOQUENT colors to the eye
Perched above on a limb the neighborhood bird begins to sigh
It declares with LILTING and TRANQUILITY a SPLENDOR to be heard
Thrusting quickly overhead a bluebird cries with DULCET words
Further down the garden path the FRAGRANT LAVENDER came WAFTING past
The rhythmic swaying to the grass gave way to summer at last
Inspired by Andrea Dietrich’s “Word warrior challenge: beautiful words”
Copyright © Laura Mckenzie
The playing starts each October in the fall.
But alas, this year there is no basketball.
Another season should have started for the NBA.
However, fans will not see their teams play.
From the Knickerbockers in New York, to the Lakers in LA,
will this competition start? Nobody can say.
As we approach winter, there is increasing doubt.
The owners have gotten together and locked the players out.
We will not see free throws or slam dunks today.
It appears there will be no playoffs in May.
With no basketball to see, where shall we go?
Perhaps a blizzard will come, and we will shovel snow.
For Francine's Winter Couplet contest (a winter sport (watching or participating) category chosen).
Copyright © Robert Pettit
Feather to feather on a branch, this early winter morning,
Are they planning outings for the day or of grave dangers warning?
A predator comes swooping by, a red-tailed hawk in plunder.
As of one mind they fly away, not one is pulled asunder.
These are the winter birds that stay, to face the stormy weather.
They mind the rules of Nature and no one asks why or whether.
The ice and snow, the winds that blow, they do not stop to measure.
For what could be one bird's nothing, could be another's treasure.
The springtime finds them once again, assembled in large groupings.
They know a single bird can be endangered by hawk's swoopings.
The over-powering scents of spring, assault them from the orchard.
The butterflies and bumblebees are courting in the courtyard.
The apple tree is leafing out and showing her pink buddings.
The robin is digging in the mud and making her worm puddings.
My own body is a tingle at the sounds and smells and scents.
A bunny with his ears attuned, keeps watching through the fence.
When summer comes, life has progressed. Among the leaves, nests hidden.
Many a chastened crow has learned that to rob one is forbidden.
Mama and Papa Swallow have filled the needs of their first hatch.
They're teaching them to fly now, to make room for another batch.
The summer flowers are in full bloom, each vying with another
To tell the nectar searching bees, they're better than the other.
The bright red of tall lilies and my roses of red hues
Urge me to plant my gardens with some yellows, greens and blues.
At last in fall, time to relax and talk about the summer.
That Robin's eggs refused to hatch, they agree was a real bummer.
They're gathered now, in larger groups, to leave for other places.
The birds that stay, send them away with wonder on their faces.
A riotous bloom of dahlias grow where other flowers have faded.
The last blooms of summer roses are looking quite outdated.
The snow of winter soon will come to cover up my garden,
But hardy plants will live through snow, fall gave them chance to harden.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson
Through sand and haze beach goers stroll
Leaving footprints where soft crested waves roll
Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick
Copyright © Stephen Gentles
Under molten autumn's tumbling umber we walk,
fingers clinging, hours disappearing as we talk.
Love gifts drift from kaleidoscope canopy trees -
gentle showers of confetti-colourful leaves.
Heart-scarlet berries glow hotly in hedgerows,
passion-flame petals burn on a late-blooming rose.
Susurrous russet whisperings as leaves cascade;
secrets shared in soft, sequestered shade.
Reaping this harvest of hopes and dreams
in the late golden gleam of sunbeams.
Melding as day gives way to mauve-mellow twilight;
communing with the misted murmurings of night.
by Charlotte Puddifoot
for Michael Falotico's 'Falling In Love In The Fall' contest
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Sky greyed with sudden snow, cars slithered serpentine roads -
a screech-slide of tyres on obsidian ice. Traffic slowed;
indicators blinking against the driving white squall,
engines' hot oiled throats throttled to standstill.
Bitter winds whipped us raw; ice shrapnel's rip and tear
piercing our lungs. Snatching gasps of spiked air,
our stung skin numb from the blizzard's bite.
Tempestuous snow smothered hematite night;
gusting and mounding, turning black to white.
By dawn, drifts dazzled with diamante light;
air was achromatic, blanketed fields blanked,
hills bleached to silence; the landscape blanched.
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
I recall the very day, in every male teenagers wish
It's to lie with one's first love and entering loves bliss
Well for me it was so beautiful, below Saltire blue skies
We lay in a field of Barley, looking into each others eyes
To the heavens we looked for guidance, but it was there all the time
It's the feeling of sensual adventure, two hearts in wanting find
Counting her buttons I remember, whilst my heart beats so fast
Seeing her heavenly beauties, left this Highlander in gasp
It's when she teased me in it's removal, her breasts now fancy free
Gravity in young never spoke, it simply mesmerised me
My hands in hers now taken, her denim shorts now slide
Down bronzed Summer skin, simply captures my eyes
Her body excited, so pert, there's a hunger in wanting desire
The craving to join as one, under Saltire skies in perspire
Hands become clenched tight, with a promise of released in flow
How wonderful it is, to be united where nature grows
I recall this very day, in every male teenagers heart
The excitement that delivers us, where many a lifetime starts
Copyright © James Fraser
The garden’s like a canvas, white as any page,
And snowflake ballerinas flutter cross a stage.
Jack Horne, written 7th October and, lol, posted too late for Gail’s A Season’s Dance contest: Winter
Copyright © jack horne
New buds growing crisp and green in sheer delight.
Singing birds come home to roost,on trees alight.
Now butterflies seek nectar in the sunny fields.
Farmers go to market with their summer yields.
Hills cascade with color as the deer grow fat.
Families gathered to eat turkey witness that.
Time draws nigh to hang the lights of sparkling hues.
Icy branches beautify,snowmen amuse!
written March 13th 2014 for Gail's contest
Copyright © Deb Wilson
My hand holds your hand and that`s enough.
In the green`s intervals, the weather is rough;
The blue wind freed its own ghost’s chain
Following the rhythm of the crystalline rain;
With the leaf`s thrill and embrace`s embers
Patient ruby hidden in alabaster chambers,
Far from the desert of mirrors, standing aloof
As vulnerable as the surge`s serenity`s proof;
Simple surmise falling down with the mist,
Suspension bridge above the yellow East;
Looking from the season `s round roof,
Solitude seems hit by a rueful cold hoof.
Like the violet dawns date with the pale moon,
Chapel`s morning joined the emerald afternoon;
Air angels with white wings are our mates;
Trees beg for heaven to let open the gates;
We listen to inner chansons sung by Edith Piaf
My hand holds your hand and that`s enough.
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa