PARALLEL AUTUMN SURPRISES
A ferris wheel of no return, she stood with rosy cheeks so fair; both day and night just wide rocky bridges of light and dark. All she needed was bulb of fresh start.. Three months pass after the love explosion happened, her pillar of strength taken for independence sake. Only candles of hope she has; slowly, slowly losing its glow. Her eyes were a train flood of crystal tears. Her heart jailed from loss but needed to be freed for the sake of a budding life. She opens her door day by day beaming a sunshine in her face. Her chest-buds bloom so graceful. Her tummy grows a robust breathing sphere. Parallel autumn surprises bring her to a sandwich salad showcase. A year passed, in a fragrant natural lair with the light bowing down on them, she planted a kiss on her baby's lips.
Hush... to ... rush...
Hush... to ... rush...
Teardrops held long tumble thunder
listless from her eyes
of rest and quiet
yet, her steady voice whispers
Head... to ... toe
Head... to ... toe
Forlorn rose maiden exhaled-
cyclic shudders: wells of regret
like a ruined garden where blossoms frown,
green leaves too, turned brown.
Sun... to... rain...
Sun... to... rain...
Her life blossomed
amidst earthquake break of failures,
true love she finally receive--
it pardoned her wrongs.
Sighs... to... groans...
Sighs... to... groans...
Bright twinkling stars
tended safe the narrow path
as silhouetted liquid moon cajoles
her long bittersweet escape.
Kiss... to ... freedom...
Kiss... to ... freedom...
Her heartstrings strum endless:
her abounding joy!
Upon hopeful eyes mirror,
the sparkles of her infants tears...
08:34 pm, November 24, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo
My Son Moon and Star ~
Approaching the celebration of his Birth
cherishing the gift I received
within weeks of conception I knew
something amazing was in Creation ~
the Stars held a party
sending me with one of their own
Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky
It was magic It was destiny taking its flight.
In love with an October full moon
drawing and painting I liked
thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
caught in a loss of time
Hours going by as choosing my color
a wittness to three falling stars
A clear night sky sparkle's
A once Famous Star was sent
inspiring the tiny child inside ~
Never a doubt in my mind at all
child bearing was worth any pain received
yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
one to cherish and hold
My Son was born the following August ~
working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year
as the set of Leverage for 3 years .
Has done a Indie movie here
In Paris it was seen and honored
coming soon filmed in Portland ~
"The House of Last Things "
awaiting the credits , you will see
1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant
My Young Lion Mans dream ~
A proud mom I watch every show and the credits
as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
My Son & Moon and Star
A name you will all know ~
Happy Birthday to my creative Son
you will exist in my heart forever~
Copyright © Shanity Rain
A cold autumn morning,
new rains have arrived
today not so ordinary
A little girls birthday goes by
she had an accident
she awoke in her bed wet
today she is six, a present she did
A day without the jug cord
would be her birthday wish
Her hope is soon faded,
for there her mother stood,
A birthday beating just begun-
her mothers' way
of a little fun
"you dirty little b!#@h"!
I'm sick of washing your sheets
this will fix you...and fix you good
till you're black and blue
...or till I'll make you bleed"!
Happy Birthday to me...
through aches and tears
I am happy
I survived to date six years
alone in her closet
she'd make this her car
travel to far away happy lands
go shopping for a star
once she bet the jug cord
she collected up the sheets
took her mums' old coal shovel
buried them under the house
darkest corner beneath,
her father gave her sixpence
every time she was dry,
or if she wet, he'd make her wetter
he'd put her in a cold bath
the little girl would trick him,
moving the sheets about
her mother would come in the room
catch the little girl out
the little girl did such things
out of fear she lied
the little girl was in a place
she was trying to survive
she adapted to her father
she adapted to her mother
though difficult it was
it affected everything
looking back the way she was
she changed her life completely
eradicated the fear
her life gets better and better
year after year
her mum and dad to this day
the little girl forgave
she understands the way they were
a woman she has grown
forgiving to her grave
she struggles on her birthday
preferring to enjoy
her spirit accepts what happened
on that day the present
Copyright © Eileen R. Kelly
I do not know?
The year was nineteen fifty
The century half gone
The first time that I met her
The lady I call Mom
My sister just turned two years old
About six months before
And they said the way she loved us two
There would probably be more
Well they were right
Two brothers first
Two sisters joined us too
Mom said that six was quite enough
Won't be no more, I'm through
But life's not always easy
She raised us all alone
I never once heard her complain
She gave us all a home
Now the Autumn of her life has come
And for us she's still there
To help us trough the hard times
And to show us she still cares
When her time on Earth is over
And her days with us are gone
Lord, give my share of heaven
To the lady I call Mom
Copyright © David Hall
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain
Have you ever had a day that you wanted to relive over and over again? A day when the craziness of the world was far behind you? I had a day like that one day. It was the best of memories too. My son and I each got our rakes out. I had my mom-sized rake and my son had his Little Tikes rake. We headed off to the front yard and began to make the most enormous pile of leaves. It was like the most beautiful treasure! Golden, burnt orange, red, and bright yellow leaves from our next door neighbor’s tree. It was the most majestic Maple tree. It showered us with leaves and we poured out of love for each other beneath it. After all our hard work we took about twenty steps away from our newly erected mountain of color. We looked at each other with the most exciting grins. We giggled and yelled “Cowabunga!” We dashed right towards the middle of our treasure chest of leaves and began to laugh so intently as they were caught up in our hair. I just sat there in the leaf pile observing my son. He was the most precious thing in my life. It brings me tears of joy to remember this day. He eventually dashed off towards the house to make himself a cup of hot cocoa. I remained in the middle of the leaf pile just giving thanks to my God for the most incredible day ever!
Copyright © Gwendolen Rix
A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast
Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds
Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are
Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs
Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens
#Poem by +Gokul Alex
Copyright © Gokul Alex
When my mother died
My craving eyes rained
And tormented soul cried
Blood sucked and energy drained
The sky fell, the sun eclipsed
It was a horrifying dark day
The fragrant breeze turned into easterly wind
O God! Orphaned at the age of twelve, why say
The spear of loneliness pierced my heart
Causing deep bleeding wound
Pointed at me was misfortune’s dart
All my hopes and aspirations drowned
Seasons came and seasons went
In the desert of heart autumn never changed
Gardens were filled with bloom’s scent
The butterflies with colors artfully arranged
My heart remained a symbol of despair
No one ever shared my grief
My cancerous wound alone to bear
I searched and searched but no relief
(Winner in the Member Contest of Destroyer Poet judged on 6-20-2012)
Copyright © Mohammad Yamin
Ode To ‘Mother’ Creator ©
Not only is it a marvelous happen chance in being able to have ‘shares’ in Mother Nature’s flora creations 'first hand'---
But, we are then granted to sit before her, these ‘set tables’….
She, as our ‘hostess’ serves ‘up’ an endless canvasing ‘kaleidoscope’ set for our eyes only!
She tempts us again and again, into a fevered ‘hunger-fest’ to (pig-out) by and they are very much ‘ready’ with such ‘food for thought’!
She has intuitively displayed her indulgent ‘realm’ to overrun our 'minds' eye….
We are prearranged to touch, taste/smell and become a convert---
It is; as true, loyal, ‘voyeurs’ we now give our undivided attendance, when we are all invited to her 'seasoning’ assemblies….
Their wholeness is made perfect, even into their ‘finally’ timed performances!
Her uses and gifts work miraculously to brightening 'up' her shadings and tonalities towards her abundant-folding true colours and her 'achievements' are (forever) complemented upon---
Whether, it is in her fauna show of velvety, satin and silky petal-flowers spending titillating fragrances
Or, by use of her seasonally ‘varying’ cycles, in 'all' her weather modes; she always will spend, all her wonderment and excitement--- towards her spectacular works!
Her numerous ‘paint-box’ colours with their different scents and shaded consepts are definitely.... crafted, in alluring us feverishly, into inventive crazed acts---
Just like the moments, when a (newly) box of crayons, first opens up and invitingly nudges the painter and writer forward.binging 'us’, to recreate one's own bountiful displays with worded colour and paints….
Thus, with our 'first hand' wonder/mental experience, “Mother’ has never 'giifted', (a questionable) blank canvas to work upon!
We are a growing world-wide nature loving group, enamoured to (dabble) our time away, 'within’ her 'ecospheres'---
We have also ‘gifted’; as well, to oiur 'public', family an friends many of our exhibited works….
Our own ‘piece-meals’ are proudly admired and profitably ‘feasted’ upon!
Many wonderful invites are sent 'out', for all to come and attend our (tabled smorgasbords) ---
‘Mother’, must be as proud and pleased when taking note, of all the vast, interpretative and varied (personal) worked styles we have made, in her likeness….
she has ‘qualified’us her pupils, in her stead, to such ‘artistry’ freedoms!
We have been ‘branded’ her slaves; as only a true slave driver can do---
We are meant to go through with our own ‘humbling’ efforts willingly.
Our need and desire to please and honour her great gifts, by these, our gifts are surmountable!
Our enthusiasms, to share our ‘Mother Nurtured’ talents among one and all to salivate and savour, is indeed a two-fold 'forever'gift and made much more---
We can only hold her responsible for our inspirational madness every day, days in and days out throughout time….
Mother Nature, we thank you for the power you have given us again, and again and again to learn, create and live in your world.
We are indeed, our own 'self-appointed time keepers and guardians to your ‘star studded 'forevermore''garden!
My writer’s mind speaks ‘never’ enough words to paint your magnificence---
There are not enough means, to ever do you justice….
Our word/plays and colourful paintings are but a ‘stitch’ to your ‘dressed’ canvases!
A true lover of Mother Nature’s works.
Artist and poet writing with ink and paint!
Copyright © Diane M Quinlan
Let me sing this song
Dozens words in my yearning rhythm
Delivered within the wind of autumn
A single pray, only for you
In this moment of silence
Bearing clearly in my mind
The love we have given one another
In our years of sharing
You embraced me with endless love
A love that cannot be compared
And it lights my sky forever
Made me a woman I am
We are destined to have each other
Since my first breath, until your last
So I sing this song for you,
Copyright © Shirley Candy
The Apple PASTURE
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.
Copyright © JAY JOHNSON
The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right,
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…
Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …
At the weekend, he used to ask his father
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…
Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.
The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of the sweets shop ,
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa
Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world
We all live in
Copyright © Amy Rose
The balmy summer breeze
Gently caresses the harvest saffron moon
While it dreams memories of autumn’s golden red kiss
Trees are shedding their emerald green summer tresses
Kindly kissing the Earth as their garments fall gently below
And flowers have shed their vivid colorful dresses
As crimson amber leaves gently anoint the ground for show
While Summer sheds her beautiful clothes -
Mother Nature lovingly seduces her to dream
She's kissed the shore with her elegant colorful attire
She has painted the world with her exquisite apparel
So now it's time for her yearly seasonal retire
She paraded us with her resplendent painted scenes
Blessed the birds in their angelic symphony of songs
So now -it’s time for her to drink the dreams of slumber
Taking the cup of restful sleep - is now where she belongs
She asks the moon to wait patiently...
For her splendid colorful return
When she'll paint the world with her radiant painted tresses
Where once more her regal colors will burn
She'll brush the Earth in regal glorious colors
Dressing up again in her brilliant, picturesque dresses
As the ruby red blaze of autumn begins to kiss the Earth
With her dazzling hues of gold and coral valor
But before she goes...
She gently reaches out with her one last caress...
Softly whispering as she sweetly kisses the moon
”It’s time now for fall - it’s time for me to undress”
She softly breathes her dulcet ending tune...
"Goodnight", she gently whispers ...
"I’ll see you soon Mr. Moon
Please...will you wait for my return?
Quietly - she drifts into her splendid, peaceful dreams…
Slumbering peacefully -
Safely harbored in Mother Nature’s loving arms
As mellow zephyrs gently caress autumn's waiting whispers
While the moon drizzles its shimmering dusty charms
Serenading nature with his soft silvery tune
As this luminous gleaming Luna Mister
Cordially opens his welcoming hands
To September's colors of orange and golden browns
Awaiting the arrival of dancing petals
As he gently embraces autumn's leaf draped lands
Next he’ll greet the season’s sister
From the pristine silverblue Northern Isles...
Awaiting dancing ivory snowflakes he'll cheerfully greet winter
With his warm welcoming golden smile
Copyright © anne p. murray
Mother Nature is an artist!
She really has no peers!
Her masterpiece is, Autumn!
Has been for years and years!
Just pause, and take a conscious look,
at Autumn's scenic view!
Blazing colors, bright and bold!
red, orange, and yellow, too!
The Harvest Moon shines brightly!
Orange pumpkins, all around!
The Autumn breeze, blows gently,
as the leaves, fall to the ground!
Barn Owls, gather in the night.
Turkeys and Pheasants both abound!
Cobs-of-corn in multitude,
lie on the leafy ground!
Geese in V-formation,
seeking a warmer clime!
Cicada and the Sassafras,
prove it's Autumn time!
Crickets chirping, all around,
piercing the Autumn air,
you know it's "Indian Summer",
'cause their sounds are everywhere!
It's time to sit, around the fire,
to enjoy the stirring sights,
drinking coffee and hot cocoa,
to counteract the chilly nights!
Enjoy this beauty, while you can!
Such a colorful array!
You know, it won't be all that long,
till Winter comes our way!
Copyright © RALPH TAYLOR
Remember the day you helped to display a picture of a Mexican Mother
She was swaddled in blankets of orange brown wraps and holding
her new born babe.She looked out of a shuttered window across a
laboured vineyard with unconditional love. Her eyes saw an evening
sky that glowed and ebbed beautiful shades of autumn reds.
The picture sat on the wall above our new crib beside our bed.Our
new baby's crib. Baby Katy. Black hair just as in the picture I'm sure.
A new patchy red skin of unbelivably vunerablility and loved so
much by both of us. She would russell away all night. No sleep to be
had but thoughts of love all day at work.
I see you wife now so many years later as that Mexican Mother. And
loved you that way. And as for my daughter I see you as then too.
I can by pass your demands now.Demands unreasonable and biased.
You will return one day with that loving effect on me. You will understand
when an adult. My second daughter arrives later just the same way.
Copyright © Ian Foley
My mother use to tell me a story about living in the woods.
She said during autumn the leaves fell to the grounds and they burn very good.
Her siblings and she would go hunting in the month of October.
The family would store the deer and rabbit meat not to go to the store.
Nature was harsh when it was cold.
When the snow or the freezing rain comes, the birds do not soar in the sky.
The ether would freeze the fouls.
The upper arctic is rigid air.
The birds fly south.
Nature in the winter can bring struggle and strife.
The beauty of the outside can affect life.
Save your money and do not fly high.
You are gambling your stability of sound body and mind.
Bitter Mother Nature is not to be denied.
The beauty of nature and winter signals an end of a productive year.
Plants cessation is seen.
Farmers have harvest crop.
Animals migrate to warmer climates.
All know Mother Nature in her mood swings.
Therefore, pay attention to your surroundings.
Respect Mother Nature and she will respect you.
However, the weather is onset.
The quiet weather sneaks upon us.
Therefore, things can become quite turbulent defining a Bitter Mother Nature’s region.
Penned on May 20, 2014 12:30 A.M. EST!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker
Horizontal Vertigo --
amongst the wet raked leaves,
Gazing into gorgeous blue;
where clouds --
Are passing frogs or horses;
In a pair of grass-stained Levi’s.
A subtle wind --
Tickles all the colored leaves,
So drenched in spattered sunlight;
Still falling --
As she rakes the cooling leaves;
So brilliant --
Over happy giggles.
Copyright © Tammy Armstrong
I got that feeling you are not love me anymore
Your kisses are as hot and cold as before
Where the reflection of San Francisco’s pier
Brings nothing to you such illusion of lightsome
I fear soon it would be over upon the warm I keep.
Courtville’s home might split in half
The cars might follow the shame
And a court battle has just begun.
Oh, God, believe me! I’m going to fight to death
To give domestic life another paramount twist,
Scream if it’s necessary but my little boy isn’t going
You blame me for all and for what it is no there
Like the time I write and make you within my limits
Nothing I could do to change color and vain
But my little boy, the one you have given to me
From the last autumn isn’t going to live with that ugly bull of yours.
Copyright © George Zamalea
The waves they rock
This ship so fierce
'Twas silent night
Now screams do pierce.
The waves they roll
And curl and crash
We watch with fear
On rocks waves smash.
The morrow comes
The sky is bright
Our ship survived
The stormy night
The waves, they lap
Upon the sand
We safely dock
Upon this land.
Neptune the sweet
A lulling force
The night has shown
His maddened course
We move so swift
From Triton's lair
The trees are thick
The valley's fair.
I sink my toes
Into the earth
And thank Mother
Who gave this birth.
This world can be
Yet Her beauty
Is clear to us.
I see sunlight
Dappling the ground
Carpet of leaves
Of Autumn found
She's a Temptress
Gentle and fair
Our hearts are snatched
Yet like all Eve's
Her temper's foul
Her seas deadly
Her winds do howl
Turn on a dime
And see Her morph
Your wife's fury
Is just a dwarf.
So watch with love
But watch with fear
And hold Her close
To your heart dear.
Copyright © Erika Raiken
The Beauty of It All
red yellow gold
through the woods
morning sun rising
new day lighting
through the trees
of autumn leaves
God forever painting
like a canvas
Early in the morning, walking up the rocky hill, taking in the autumn air, I think of the swampy terrain of my past life in the south. Such a difference in climates, from the humid, hot days, but green winters to four pretty seasons of the Midwest with gray winters. Lost in my thoughts of this beauty, My daughter interrupts,”Mom let's go shopping when we are through hiking”.
Autumn leaves falling
Around corner snow
Coats and boots in fashion
We head back to the car to get in style. Awe the beauty of it all
Copyright © Shirley Rebstock
When growing up on the farm in Indiana even at 'round the age of three,
I began to notice simple yet beautiful things that surrounded me.
Strange though it seems, I found beauty in grumpy bumble bees,
And was fascinated by the gold and crimson foliage of autumn's trees!
Golden fields of wheat undulating in the breeze was a beauty to behold,
As were luscious apples ripening on laden trees in hues of red and gold.
Bright green fields of corn that were to provide roasting ears bye and bye,
Were crowned with gilted, dancing tassels reaching for the sky!
I saw beauty in the gamboling of a newborn baby calf,
And the antics of squealing piglets that really made me laugh!
I caressed fluffy yellow baby chicks with my innocent paws.
(The threat of the fussy mother hens rarely gave me pause!)
I had the joy of capturing elusive lightning bugs on languid summer nights,
And delighted at the awesome beauty of the eerie Northern Lights!
I saw beautiful displays of lightning as it flashed across the prairies,
And from afar saw magnificent golden eagles preening in their aeries!
I gently caressed the beautiful peonies that my Mother grew,
And inhaled the fragrance of her roses glistening in the morning dew.
Though I'm in the autumn of life, in all things beautiful and bright
That The Creator in his munificence has provided, I still take delight!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw
Is the envy of the autumn sun
It holds winter close
Your lonely eyes
Map the secrets of Venice
Behind a carnival mask
Are vessels to your heart
Where armies invade
Are like ocean tides
Shifting with the moon
Are polished flowers
Sprouting from melted concrete
Your face is like my own
Too much so
Copyright © Bebe Marlini
It’s here again,
This melancholy song,
Carried by the autumn winds,
Upon the dying, drying, falling leaves,
That cover everything.
I sat by the river’s edge.
I wept for those my eyes would see no more,
Nor hear their laughter,
Nor share that once familiar dream,
Our hearts were after.
The dawn reveals the morning frost
Glistening amid the golden leaves that cover me
Lying here beside the river's edge
I hear that melancholy song again
From falling leaves and autumn winds.
Copyright © Ruben Ramos
What has been – once was – a brilliant time.
This season was unable to delight / fill these eyes.
Old Man Autumn, had to fill in for Jack Frost,
painting Mother Natures verdure in washed-out hues.
Old Man Autumn, could no longer wait for Jack Frost’s,
hand to touch the core, the heart and leave his
multi coloured cloak to greet Old Man Winter.
Fact is, at the end days of October,
naked stood much of Mother Nature’s dress of foliage,
nothing much left of the canvas for Jack Frost,
to paint his master piece upon, even if
he should have laid his rime all around,
had he come sooner to touch all that could
lay beneath his icy fingers, his cold stare.
This and other disappointments are all
that filled these old eyes, this tired mind
as this long, long, cold, black snake passed
beneath my heart, beneath my soul,
carried my spirit, mile upon mile,
from whence I came.
back to, from whence I came.
B. .J. “A” 2
November 10th 2007
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield
IN THE AUTUMN OF HER LIFE
Beneath the cold gray skies---proudly
Stripped bare, naked to the world,
Arms outstretched to the heavens,
Unashamed, poised in her Avatar dignity,
Through the peep holes of windows
Eyes reached out touching her beauty:
This ancient lady, an aged old tree, glorified
In the autumn of her life.
So I glorify my ebony hued mother---stripped
Bare of her God given rights to be;
Arms raised, poised in her dignity, unashamed,
Proudly mastering each day
In the autumns of her life.
Copyright © millard lowe
It came to be by design of the Supreme
All Creations of the Non-Created Being
None of its own desire but by the Command
Their makes they expressly do Exhibit
As meant to be Mother Nature becomes.
The Climate and Weather in their take
The Sun, Moon and Stars in their strides
Dry Season and Wet Season do proclaim
Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn do herald
As meant to appear Mother Nature Shows.
The Fowls of the Air glow in their plumes
The Beasts of the Land parades in hides
The Creatures of the Deep in scales and shells
The Beings of the Earth portray personalities
As meant to Sound Mother Nature speaks.
In Beauty, Elegance and Poise,
The Nature of Mother Nature
So Graceful and Glamorous
Radiates the Essence of Creation
By the Supreme Being of Nature.
Copyright © Raymond Emeka-Mbah
feel it? The crunch
beneath our feet as we
stroll along this path leading home!
leaves from the trees
all dried and withered, tired
just hanging around, fallen down!
Do you smell it?
C'mon, we're almost there!
Cherrywood burning, cinnamon!
Give me a hug!
Oh God, that feels so good!
This is what I have been missing!
Copyright © Adele Kaye
would not have been
complete without some
perfect pumpkins, so off
to the pumpkin patch my son
and I went. He was so eager.
"look, Mom! There must be a bazillion!"
Let's get the biggest, brightest ones." We did!
September 23, 2015
Copyright © Janice Canerdy
Life and love! Twins separated at birth,
to be reunited in the holiest of moments!
Mothers and fathers, and sons and daughters to each other!
like autumn leaves, each individual manifestation must wither in time
but, oh, the springs are endless! The leaves return!
Copyright © Jesse Jones