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Autumn Life Poems | Life Poems About Autumn

These Autumn Life poems are examples of Life poems about Autumn. These are the best examples of Autumn Life poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Free verse | |

Where The Sycamore Grew

The house seemed smaller, now seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared

But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet much the same

There was an unfamiliar young child's tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...

Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives..... 
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
            ...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
                       ...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes....
Yes....it is all still there, in the little yellow house

Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...


                                         ++++++++++++++++++


Details | Rhyme | |

Winds of Autumn

I called to the winds of autumn
As they wrapped up the dying year;
"Oh stay for a moment and tell me
Of answers I need to hear".

Who is the rival of prudence
Who is the merchant of crime
Who closes the eyes of beauty
And steals the hours of time?
Who brings the winter to age
From the springs of the fountain of youth
Who is the companion of sorrow
And destroys the justice of truth?
Who's the apprentice of Satan
The Prince of the Power of Air
Whose appetite is transgression
With more than enough to share?
Who weakens the power of the great
Who slaughters the wisdom of wise
Who brings the honest and gracious
To depths that others despise?

The winds of autumn now answered
With a voice like a phantom call
"It's an evil afflicting so many
Who drown in the drink alcohol."
This is the spell of the devil
Who casts his net from hell
An addiction with power to destroy
Gathering all who are caught in its spell
For his net will gather the unwary
To beguile lost souls with his breath;
This is the destruction of lost dreams
That perish in the arms of death






Details | Free verse | |

THE OLD OAK TREE


         Oh I am but a simple leaf
         withering within the gutter
         one summer of bliss
         now! Just an autumn flutter.

                   For some; destine to fall
                   upon stony ground, a part
                   of life’s infernal gyration.
                   Yet for those that fall
                   within your reach, to live
                   on within your soul!

         While limbs that stretch
         towards the solstice, create
         vivacious veins as channels of hope,
         a pledge of foliation continues
         to endure what spring has
         furnished; autumn expires. 

                   Yes! If we can but learn
                   from nature’s complex simplicity,
                   that life be of a cycle
                   from the seed we are conceived,
                   then let spring be my beginning
                   winter my exultant eve!

         Let our two cultures
         merge as one, the
         decomposed humus
         to become the sustenance;
         our transfusion the
         new beginning.

                   Let us breathe the
                   fragrance of born again;
                   let each slender limb,
                   stout body bear our
                   tenaciousness, each lyrical
                   leaf our life’s blood.

          Let us mollycoddle each
          precious tear that falls from a
          angry sky; dance gracefully
          upon the wind, embrace
          on moonless nights, bathe
           in summer madness.

                   Let us hear the bluebell call,
                   the daffodil pray, the apple
                   blossom bear witness; the
                   clamour of the field mouse
                   the pitapat of the butterfly
                   the silence of lovers in love.

             Let us be sanctuary to the
             symbolic songstress, scuttling
             squirrel, vulgar urchin;
             a fortress for the warrior
             a haven for the pacifist
             an inspiration for the poet!

 EPILOGUE 

                  The call of springtime
                   we will invoke,
                     logging representative
                      we will gladly choke;
                        nature’s guardian.
                          “This! Obliging old oak.”

Copyright Harry J Horsman 2000


        

         








Details | Rhyme | |

Lives to Live

I need more lives for me to live
In this universe of beauty;
I plan more days to find new ways
Of doing freedom's duty.
I need not more joy than this
For I am life's dear lover;
And when I wage to turn the page
I'd never want another.

The glorious pledge of sunny Spring
With sweet June coming after;
Bring autumn sighs and summers cries
Lost in winter's laughter.
With virgin moons and scorching noon’s
And stars of a thousand nights;
I'd need no heaven if love be given
With all its sweet delights.

There are many splendors for the eye
And such music for the ear;
The mind would reel with all to feel
And see to touch and hear.
There's many ways to spend the days
And more to do what's kind;
For bread now cast on waters past
Returns again I find.

There are such gifted souls to know
And many more to learn;
While a promise rests in earth's warm breast
And unknown stars still burn.
In six days God made all the earth
The bible is known to say;
Six lives I need to plant a seed
Of love with one for each dear day.

But sad if love should fly away
Or hide his face from me;
Six lives aren’t much if I had such
But one’s all that need be.
With unhappy May and sorry June
Sad dawns and weary night;
A sorry world through space was hurled
When love had lost her light.


Details | Elegy | |

In the Autumn of My Life

I walk through flames 
of autumn’s sweet refrain-

That break  beneath 
a weight  too much to bear-

Where I tread in solitude 
and mourning there-

Along a path  of maple trees
and scented air-

As I recall the life that 
we once shared-

And in these twilight hours 
I see the beauty of it all-

In every autumn leaf
That softly falls-


~~~
Author:  Elaine George

Awarded : 1st place in - Brian Strand's contest - A Choice of Form


Details | Narrative | |

My Favorite Devonshire :D

Past-Life Nightmare
A child of four suffers recurring dreams,
disturbing parents and siblings with screams.
When she awoke, always sore in one knee;
next to a birthmark, it throbbed painfully.

Night after night she feared going to bed.
What caused these nightmares that raged in her head?
Even when grown, the torment persisted,
so a therapist’s aid she enlisted.

“Hypnosis,” said he, “might offer some clues.
Why not try it?  You’ve just bad dreams to lose.”
Once under, he guided her to a room --
here people’s lifetimes in books were entombed.

“Find one that is yours,” her counselor said.
Quickly she did, but before it was read,
she felt an ache, saw just a faint title.
The words, she thought, said “Alister Bridle.”

The hypnotic trance now suddenly broke;  
puzzling questions “Mr. Bridle” evoked.
For many years she thought that was her name;
perhaps a past life had been filled with pain.

Who was this man?  She simply had to know!
Seasons passed, summer suns made way for snow.
In Florida now, 1998,
she thought all the nightmares she had escaped.

But strange dreams always catch us by surprise --
when the lights grow dim, our minds fantasize.
Cloaked in velvet, she left her parents’ farm,
stealing away on a late autumn morn’.

To meet her love, she climbed on the carriage,
knowing her folks would forbid their marriage.
Warm-hued leaves carpeted the hillside road,
and her pulse beat fast; she’d soon join her beau.

She thought only of him; joy cast its smile,
but that’s when he called, “Alice, the bridle!”
The leather band broke and wrapped ‘round her knee.
To the ground she was pulled; her horse ran free.

She met death, but past-life dreams recycle,
and she’d never been “Alister Bridle.”



*Based on real events I experienced.
--Carolyn Devonshire

-------------------------------------------------------------------

I first read this gripping narrative as an entry for my contest & I
felt chills when I read this-& to know that it is based on real events makes this even more amazing for me. I placed this 2nd place in my first ever contest :D.

For me (& I think to so many others) Carolyn has a real gifted pen-- she can write just about anything & truly evoke emotions within you. She writes about realities of her life & she can take you with her. So Carolyn, continue writing your gems & we'll continue enjoying them :)

Also, thank you so much for all the wonderful comments, they're truly heartfelt & that's one of the things I love about you. Hugs & love!


Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Colors

          Autumn Colors

Trees shake old cobwebs from their heads
A kaleidoscopic parade of colors tumbles down
Pretty reds and yellows, parasol shapes
Parachute softly and collect in mounds  
Falling leaves that drift and cross our paths 
Brought on by climates cooler winds
Leave the trees in all their majesty
To become the magic of the season 

Created on 9/03/14 for Autumn Colors poetry contest


Details | Tanka | |

Autumn

Summer is gone now and fall with her beautiful face Softly just arrives. Spreading joy with her colours And thrilling with her magic. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 Copyright@2014 8.10.2014


Details | Etheree | |

Cruelest Winds

Autumn leaves released against the cruelest winds
unmoored, without  a distant shore to land
have no instruction, nor direction, 
swept up on waves of winter seas
Drifting boats without their oars
curled tight against themselves
Here, there, ...soaring where?
until they fall
and crumble
into
dust

While
I must
not stumble 
and must not curl
tight against myself
but be kin to nature...
soar the waves of winter seas
adrift in a sea of knowledge
following directions of my heart
unmoored, but with a distant shore to land
against the future of autumn's cruelest wind



__________________________________________
9/12/14  For Shadow's Contest: Double Etheree


Details | Personification | |

MY POEMS

.                         ‘Violin’ was written on a soft dark velvet night,
                As I drifted - in the dreams -  of the flickering -  candle light;
           Ne’er pre-planned -  nor pondered - nor was she - pre-conceived,
        She came from deep within me, appearing  on the screen,
               As did my favorite poem - my darling ‘Cannon Lee’.

                ‘The Love of a Gentlemen’ -  and ‘Where the Heart Resides,’
                   Came from treasured memories - I tried to keep alive;
                   With words - chosen carefully - to create solidity,
                          I brought them back to life - to live eternally,
                  In vivid hues - more beautiful - than all the autumn leaves.

                   Others - fell like drops of dew  - from flying fingertips,
           That raced across the keyboard  - in hopes they wouldn’t miss,
                The chance to share the beauty - my eyes now fell upon,
           Through the kitchen window  - across the river -  and beyond,
            Where fields of liquid diamonds - glistened in the early dawn.

                    Others came in metaphors -  disguising secrets held;
                      To painful in reality - for me to ever tell. 
                ‘The Rose and the Thorn’ -  poured herself upon the page,
                     A sonnet of over-whelming grief  - rising up from hidden rage,
                         Releasing me forever - from my gilded cage.
                                           
                                                     ~~~~~

                        These poems I write - come day come night,
                                  Come candle or come neon light,
                       Come wind, come rain, come joy, come pain,
                They are the life - the Great Creator -  breathed in me;
                                         They are my breath! 
                                          They are my poetry!

                                                      ~~~~~


                               Author:  Elaine George
                               Written:  January 13th, 2010

Inspired by:  Deborah Guzzi's contest 'How Do You do It - How do you write your poems'?
PLACED: SECOND

Authors Note:  This poem was written on route to Bath, North Carolina via Ferry 
crossing.  It was written on a note-pad from the' Hampton Inn' and transferred 
to my lap-top after returning to Swansborro.


Details | Terza Rima | |

December Sky

I sit, with deep contentment, by the window 
And watching the young evergreen out-shadowed
The oak tree, where love once etched on it, I sowed 

My time quietly slipped into the picture
Between my only son and his firstborn son
Between the past, the present, and the future

I have the feelings, but no words are spoken
When the words are spoken, my own feelings gone
Hidden for life, in my sagging rocking chair

I felt the late afternoon cold breeze, touching 
White-bearded face, with the autumn scent tingling 
While the golden sun has faded, into gray

I saw the charmed naked ladies, still smiling
In a bright purplish pink, for there are no snows
Soon, the land will be white, when tomorrow bows

As I eagerly wait for December sky
To glow, with sensational firecrackers’ lights
In my arms, my grandson awaken from sleep

No words spoken, but, has the smile on his face
In him I saw myself, in my father’s arm
Now I know, December’s coming, to give grace




Details | Pantoum | |

Ever Turning Circle

In winter’s white, as angels cry
for early spring to warm the wind,
to bring to life with gentle sigh,
in love, the bitter frost has thinned.

For early spring to warm the wind,
at Valentine’s romantic calls,
in love, the bitter frost has thinned,
where dancers twirl amid stone walls.

At Valentine’s romantic calls,
rebirth of nature’s light divine,
where dancers twirl amid stone walls,
and blossoms pastel shades recline.

Rebirth of nature’s light divine,
when day equals the hours of night,
and blossoms pastel shades recline,
to hail the queen of May in light.

When day equals the hours of night,
a summer’s sun will come to play,
to hail the queen of May in light,
we chant and sing along the way.

A summer’s sun will come to play,
so life can grow as gods decreed,
we chant and sing along the way,
with warmth and light our hunger feed.

So life can grow as gods decreed,
the rays of sun on seeds we’ve sown,
with warmth and light our hunger feed,
the wealth of harvest is our own.

The rays of sun on seeds we’ve sown,
in autumn breeze that chills the heat,
the wealth of harvest is our own,
as gold and red belies our feet.

In autumn breeze that chills the heat,
a year that ends with blessed Samhain,
as gold and red belies our feet,
the call of Ancient’s name to reign.

A year that ends with blessed Samhain,
to bring to life with gentle sigh,
the call of Ancient’s name to reign,
in winter’s white, as angels cry.


Details | Free verse | |

Anticipation


What the Quack!
I dont want my poems in Poem Zoo!
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Details | Free verse | |

A Beautiful Reverie

Here I lie beside you
My heart goes thump.thump.thump.
My soul dances inside you
Reveling in the texture of your own.
Electric and flowing 
The currents of our love
Glow like neon lights
Illuminating the hope in my eyes.
Though we're not moving
I feel so incredibly alive
Invincible to my past
Untouchable by all who lack
That gentle touch of when 
You lean in and brush my face
Your lips grazing my skin
Softer than a butterfly.
And then you gaze into my eyes
I fall into your depths 
Twirling like the autumn leaves
Melting into your smile 
Your soul reminiscent of summer.
You pull me into your arms 
And for a moment I'm lost 
Breathless and in awe
Staring in the face of pure exquisite love 
And there you are - holding it 
Glowing in the moonlight of my stare.
My heart beats - its drum pounding away
Echoing a song thats lost its words
I touch your cheek and smile
My hands cant stay away
My lips s l o w l y, draw near yours
Hovering, and then - 
Part, a soft warmth against them.
My eye lids pulling shut
Dragging me into a silent heaven
I pull away - and what seemed millennia
Lasted only a moment, a second in time
But this is our love
This is what you do to me
You make me invincible and fragile
Lost forever in a beautiful reverie.


Details | Rhyme | |

Kunzite

It is 2012 within the season of autumn in that year.
Humankind knows not whether to be sad or cheer.
A new sphere arrived; they call it planet kunzite.
In an orbit opposite of earth, aligned perfectly right.
Was it our doom, or salvation we awaited a sign.
Upon the next moon, our answer came so divine.
Planet kunzite was to be our new home to live.
To go in peace and harmony with only love to give,
No more wars or anger for any human to spread,
In the stars surrounding, words are there to be read.
Kunzite a jewel for everyone, especially new born,
So upon each morning a new greeting shall adorn.


Details | I do not know? | |

REVELATION

     
     
      Like a rose by autumn broken,
      losing charm of wound in the frost,
      so with a tear in me 
      your heart -my heart hurts.
      And I'm not care not color nor bird,
      no feel sorry for this tiny drass,
      in each image and star I found
      see a shadow of your trail not once,
      captured by the visual fraud,
      fly like free butterfly in your sections 
      and search and call, but you're not
      your are not a bird nor a blade,you are
      just a piece of my heart and breath....


     
                                   
                                                   /"REVELATION" -Natalia Georgieva/


Details | Verse | |

Autumn Alone



Dearest Autumn of glory and rage of windswept memory still alive on the page I ponder and dream of love once held for now the dusty book alone on the shelve If only to rekindle a fire of orange glow a lifetime of promise of love I bestow Each leaf of gold fire tattered torn..........


Details | Kyrielle | |

BEYOND LOVE

The sun will rise,the sun will set,
no more love will life beget;
The day will break,the moon to rise,
no more love,as this life dies;
The Summer heat,or Winter cold,
no more love will this life hold;
The Autumn fall,and Springtime green,
no more again,will love be seen;
The wheat will shoot,the grass will grow,
no more again sweet love to know;
The grape will ripen on the vine
no more,no more will love be mine.



inspired after reading an essay by Nicholas Ferrar(1592-1637) the English ascetic of the Little 
Gidding community(was also TS Eliot's inspiration foth the last of his Four Quartets).


Details | Heroic Couplets | |

Saint Blackheart

Saint Blackheart walks the Autumn streets and smiles with diamond eyes;
   She's well-aware of what you think, but listens to your lies.
Confess your deepest fantasies or never look her way --
   She's free with random kindness, though she won't have much to say.

Saint Blackheart seeks the shadows for the secrets they impart.
   Her life's a patchwork puzzle made with jagged shards of art --
Impressionistic paintings on a canvas dipped in red;
   She dances like a demon for the angels in her head.

Saint Blackheart loves the twilight and the elemental rain;
   She'll stand and watch you suffer, yet she senses all your pain.
A soft, Franciscan echo making up a primal scream
   Can hurtle from her crimson lips and dart from dream to dream.

Saint Blackheart lives in solitude among the ancient trees --
   You'll find her there within the mist, but never on her knees.
Her hands will offer nothing which is not her own to give;
   And though you wish to die in peace, she may just let you live.

Saint Blackheart will not weep with you or wipe away your tears,
   Yet she may catch their crystal hue and treasure it for years.
She'll lay a little flower on a long-forgotten grave --
   A tribute to the tortured soul she never tried to save.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Garden

My autumn wine; white winter rose
Please tell me how your garden grows?
I’ve lost my touch, I feared as much
You are fragile and it shows

Can I still call upon you?
With no words ever spoken to you?
And would you come to me?
Could you hear me in a dream?

Would you “sense” me if I came close,
But not in sight of you eyes?
Would you tempt me if giving up hope
Could cleanse me of all the lies?

I survive through a disguise
Designed to hide my immortal light
You will never see it
For I am a chameleon
Crawling through the ancient garden
The (other) not known as Eden
For it has no name to keep it safe
Until light shines on this darkened place

“April showers bring May flowers”
And so your flower has not yet soured
You still have the power to reverse your desires
My white winter rose, will you grow any higher?

Prosper or wither
The choice is now yours
Bound or severed
I’ve done all I could


Details | Rhyme | |

When Autumn Comes

When autumn comes to drop it's leaves.
Unreconciled, the branches greive.
To enter winter's long goodbye.
Awaiting spring, again to sigh.

Amidst the heat of summer's sun.
The planted seed will soon be done.
Only the rain of heavens love.
Can help the plant rise up above.

The seasons we all have to live.
Are waisted if we don't forgive.
A heart that's full of pain and sorrow.
Requires hope to meet tomorrow.

When someone needs a helping hand.
It's nice when they can join the band.
To know that they can sing along.
To harmonize in life's long song.


Details | Narrative | |

Seasons of Life

As spring brings life to all that sleep
Spirit, body and mind renew
Joy reflects in bursts of blossoms
Heralding new birth to God’s creation
As man and nature journey as one
In a dance of celebration
Hope reborn in all that live

As the summer of life screeches by
Visitors invited, welcome to share
Love, laughter, living and dying
Soon comes bittersweet joy of liberation
Knocking, bearing gift of freedom
As mountains rise along the way

As the autumn of life drifts in
The lights of my eyes will grow dim
Yet the hummingbird still sings
Joy of my vision, my rock
Through light of day or darkest night
Like a child I trust, I sleep

As the winter of life arrives
When my tresses turn white as snow
With the sound of my voice just a whisper
Though shallow breath, my prayers ascend
To the joy of my salvation
Just beyond invisible gates
I will in quiet adoration kneel


Note:  Written 9/17/09
          By Audrey Carey
          Entry for Constance La France's "Why Oh Why" Contest


Details | Free verse | |

Van Buren Station

On high-back benches
weary shoppers clutch their parcels
and slump.
Wrapped in a yellow green haze
Van Buren station sleeps
beneath Chicago's vibrant streets.

Outside, on wood-plank platform
we drink-in the coffee warmth
of October's fleeting sun.

"South Chicago, 23rd, 47th, 53rd, 57th"

Like some unraveling mass of I-beam steel
the tracks begin to rumble and shake.
The slant nosed Metra comes and goes.

Across the tracks in autumn plume
Grant Park displays her rows of golden elms.
A nor’ east wind dances bow upon bow,
with a gentle sway that shears away
a sifting rain of harvest leaves.

"Park Forest South, 23rd, 47th, 53rd, 57th"

On the slant nosed Metra
I hurry home.


Details | Sonnet | |

Leaves of Rust

Leaves of rust do bounce within the brisk wind As trees release them from whence they ascend The frigid air blows down the lane of leaves Orange charms lay about where we all believe The sun sits low barely over the drive Straw blends with the grass as fall comes alive The crispness of each day flaunts us with pride Colors of autumn describes the outside Trees are nearing their midnight life cycle Almost bare with few leaves to recycle Crops are near the height of sowing prowess Yellow stalks surround the farmhouse fortress The season does explain the cool weather It’s the most beautiful time of the year
Russell Sivey


Details | Rhyme | |

Trumpet Call

My heart is the same full of love
     My house that shelters it full of pain
But it's autumn in my life, Dove
      The hair of gray and wrinkles reign

I set the table full of food
        For the family to dine fun times
But it is autumn in my life
       When changes prepare for winter

I'm not sure I'll know winter now
        For I have not experienced it
But it's autumn in my life somehow
        Where beauty glows bright from the depths

Producing leaves of many hues
       Love the autumn of my life, Dove
Now all that's left winter's white snow
        I think that when winter comes cold

Plants freeze if left out in weather
      They will need a warmer place inside
But since it is just autumn now
       There's time to prepare room somehow

I still watch the birds from window
       They have not all gone away love
But it's autumn in my life now
        Soon most will be gone for winter

Winter soon will approach with cold
       Seemingly death of the roses
But it's autumn in my life my bold
       There are few thoughts of approaching winter

But when winter comes my way
        The body rest to rise another spring
Now it's autumn in my life this day
         On another day I'll be called by trumpet away