NATURE’S WONDERFUL GARDEN
Nature’s wonderful garden in display
display of autumn colours in array
array of beauty to share in delight
delight of birds in a picturesque sight.
Sight of swans as they fly above the ground
ground that is covered by leafs as if gowned
gowned by a blanket of colourful hue
hue of earth moistened by a misty dew.
Dew that reflects sunlights shimmering light
light that wakes up into a morning bright
Bright is the dawn as a new day ascends
ascends to where the earth and heaven blends.
Nature and seasons in a divine bliss
bliss of life and beauty to reminisce.
My first attempt at writing a chained sonnet.
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
Like violets were her eyes when first I spied
the lady with a sweet child’s face who peeked
at me from bushes that she stood beside,
alluring Lilah, beaming, apple-cheeked!
And so it was that more and more I found
myself among the lilacs in that place
where first we’d met, that I might hear the sound
of Lilah’s laugh and glimpse her angel’s face.
On fragrant garden paths we knew the thrill
of blossoming affection. Poetry
was time we spent! But when my love fell ill,
the autumn of our bliss was not to be. . .
I visit Lilah now where she’s at rest
nearby the lilac blooms she liked the best.
By Andrea Dietrich
For the Women's Only Poetry Contest of Kelly Deschler
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
If e're we could move that mountain from between thee and me,
where would be lament or reason to grieve?
How remove the hollow from the tree, or shore from the sea?
What left would there be?
What if ere the beam lost it's moon.
Or lovely Autumn raiment lost it's tree? What then would it be?
Can one sow the seed without the land?
Would this be what Powers planned?
The grief, the longing, oh, the heartfelt gaze,
The strife the loneliness, but a soulful phase.
A mountain surmountable, a hollow fulfilled,
A sea able to be, a beam again spilled.
A stage again for raiment,... a fertile valley for seed.
Our love could not be boundless without the bonds of these.
Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2010
Earth’s sphere of fire bids adieu to me
As dying embers gleam across the sea
In rare hues reflected by autumn trees,
Swirling in motion with October’s breeze.
I feel the joy this season has to share
In golden harvest that the branches bear,
And I am thankful for this blessed year,
For divine abundance I share so dear.
The sun and moon take on a special glow
As thunder clouds move swiftly with the flow.
Yes, autumn coaxes feelings to revive,
Those mem’ries of past seasons still alive.
When autumn spreads her dress of lacey frost
I know, in breathless beauty, I’ll be lost.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2013
Upon this break of dawn
Touched by an autumn breeze
There rustling in the leaves
I see a hint of bronze
And know it won't be long
Before you strip the trees
Yet knowing this I dare
To dream of you again
As summer starts to wane
Leaves falling everywhere
From mother nature's hair
Ablaze in crimson flames
That set a fire in me
Just like those falling leaves
August 21, 2015
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2015
Burnished bronze, tarnished teal,
flare warnings yield to winds of steel.
Their urge to jump, to flee and hide
cuts off the warmth for suicide.
They leap and land at such a cost,
far flung debris- refulgence lost.
They shrivel brown, dark fibers done,
decay beneath the wayward sun.
Their shredded shells in supine piles,
small hells ignite by human wiles.
Gray smoking wraiths slip out to sigh,
soar off to smear the flannel sky.
Green progeny will take their turn.
One chance to live is what they earn.
Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr. | Year Posted 2009
SONNET – AUTUMN MIST
And autumn came, with its colourful hue,
crispy clear was the air with morning mist,
after nights frosty coldness tears of dew,
to reflect the essence of nature‘s whist.
Autumn colours of brown, red and yellow
the sun setting its sight toward winter,
asleep beyond ripeness of life mellow,
leaving behind summer’s light and glister.
Like nature’s fall, love has grown to ripeness,
waiting for ardours new awakening
to blossom once more with virgin fondness,
and discover love’s tenderest feeling.
Autumn lay to rest nature’s planted seed,
depth of love to grow, its emotions heed.
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015
It was the first part of September
As the leaves were just starting to turn
The bonfire shrank to just one ember
A fearful forecast she would discern
Yes, the hurricane season lived on
Although the seas were starting to cool
Bounty of trees now plucked – pecan
As children made their way back to school
Indian Summer brought such sad news
A woman still in her autumn years
Struggled from her eyes, tears to excuse
She had to face the greatest of fears
The doctor offered no hope for her
Would this month be her last September?
*Entry for Brian’s September Contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
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
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013
out and away from home there is a place
where all the tracks of foot have never been
away and within a nest there's a face
where all the faces on earth are unseen
where there is a breath there will be a life
among the rocks and between the evergreen
i can feel the warmth of the meek sunlight
when the rocks turn hot and the trees lean
what a bless to be in such company !
when the pure spirit of God is around
what sounds and sites chime in such harmony!
it's here where the true joys of life abound
lifetime in the streets nearly made me sick
too much noise beside heaps of smoking tar
the walking dead unaware, roaming the streets
as if some alien from decaying star
i packed my tools after the hills have called
a free ticket i got for the calling hill
home is up-there from whence comes the wild
that is more cozy than our streets that kill
Copyright © True Feeling | Year Posted 2014
There’s a path of flowers I glide across
Such a beautiful color made of gloss
Orange pieces of delight made to pass
Within this meadow that is long to last
The blades of grass are surely tall with pride
Turning colors from green to brown inside
There’s a lone tree in the sight of the field
Where orange and red leaves become its build
Flowers impact this field in retrospect
Looking at it from my past with respect
Power of the flower is prominent
Secure in my heart which is dominant
Orange is the color of the plant’s choice
Field is glad of their presence, they rejoice
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013
Freedom differs on how each men define it,
like the love of autumn or cold of winter.
Vast it may be but meaning is implicit,
so vast that no soul can ever hinder.
I define liberty as a pen and paper.
Mere it is , but my understanding is sure.
What is simple for you, to me strikes deeper.
Thin a paper be , but it lasts to endure.
The glory of ink is immeasurable,
for a tender soul of mine to comprehend.
Though age has numbers, I am an example,
of a generation's hope for we to ascend.
May the world be courageous to project art.
Like this sonnet , this is where I start.
Copyright © Jim Parrera | Year Posted 2011
Autumn Revisited , A Look Back
Sitting on mossy stone, I watch Autumn fly
no respite from Winter's friend
Over heading the wild birds soar on by
almost time for this season's end.
This stream , banks covered in green moss
shall very soon flow deeper and cold
This forest will reflect more of this loss
musings I find deeper as I grow old!
What of the sunny Summer days, memory fair?
a short gust in a fast receding storm
Bears scouting for coming Winter's hiding lair
survival searching now is the prime norm.
As Autumn prepares for Winter's hard blast
Slowing moving Time suddenly races so fast!
(EDITED)- Typo in the closing verse, "Rime" was
A TYPO--correct is "Time". Old keyboard has letters missing. lol
Robert J. Lindley, 08-13-2015
Note--Time to dread Winter. This seasonal apprehension
goes back to my childhood. Back then Winters were
brutal on we kids without coats and proper protection
from its blasts.. Yet we survived and later prospered.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
Soon, shall we plunge into the cold darkness
Adieu, long live our bright short summer days
I just heard falling, in shocking sadness
The wood's resounding on the pavement ways
The winter shall enter my being: ire
Hatred, quivers, horror, labor; hard, forced
And like the sun in her polar fire
My heart will be just a block, red and iced
Trembling, i hear each log that is tumbling
Mounted scaffold, has yet, soundless echo
My spirit, a yielding tour, resembling
Succumbs to the heavy, tireless ram blows
It seems to me, lulled by a shock so dull
A coffin been nailed, some where on the fly
For whom? dead is Summer, here is the Fall
This mysterious noise sounds like goodbye
I, of your long eyes, love the green bright side
Sweet beauty, but today all is bitter,
Naught, neither your love, boudoir or fireside,
Are worth the bright sea sun, or more sweeter.
And yet, love me, tender heart be mother,
Even for a wicked, unthankful one;
Be mildness and pass, sister or lover
Of glorious Autumn, or setting sun
Short task, the tomb awaits it is avid
Oh, let-me, my forehead on your knees,
Taste, while i mourn the white summer, torrid,
The late season, yellow sweet ray of his
Note: this is my own translation of the original poem intitled:
*Chant D'Automne*by French Charles baudelaire. it was translated by some poets. the best one is by :*Lewis Piaget Shanks*
i tried hard to keep the rhythm and rhyme of the sonnet though it was very hard for me.
Plz. check the following link:
Copyright © True Feeling | Year Posted 2016
Sitting under the pale pink running rose
At the end of a beautiful Autumn Day
Searching for inspirational sonnet to compose
For my love who lives in heaven's way
To me He's like a honeysuckle vine
Blooming in the month of May
Sweetly fragrant essence among the pines
He's like the gold of mountains that's refine
To me He's like the babbling brook
Sweetly singing in tune
For everything in heaven He forsook
Fo prove His love for me is beyond the moon
Words cannot describe my love for Him
But daily I'll try to draw close in His realm
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2009
The hunter hunted; the past comes stalking,
breath now visible, I quicken my pace,
dusk has fallen, nature is now talking,
autumn's chill causes my heart to race.
My eyes scan dense forest from left to right,
I stop, gain my footing in the thicket,
only branch and crimson leaves in my sight,
owls call out, and prey upon the cricket.
Voices seem to speak from the babbling brook,
cold stones, worn smooth, waters of countless days,
eyes are everywhere, yet nowhere I look,
something is near, I cannot get away.
Struggling, my arrow kept at the ready,
my once stealthy hand, is now unsteady.
This was my original entry for Debbie Guzzi's contest - "A Crown of Sonnets"
(This is also the first sonnet that I had ever written.)
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
Line upon line the troops stood straight
In late season sun they stand and wait
With magazines filled with ammunition
Not with bullets but with good nutrition
These troops stand with feather in cap
Full of purpose and flowing with sap
Yet soon inevitably they are to fall
As they grow big and they grow tall
Then, quite fearlessly they give their life
To die for country, kids and wife
Yet to die so that all may flourish
As their bodies feed and nourish
And so the seasons pass
For these troops of tallest grass
Unsung heroes that sacrifice all
When in autumn they die and fall
But are our lives not the same?
As in sacrifice there is no shame
Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2015
Lady Autumn’s Ball
Here ye, Hear ye, tis time for Lady Autumn’s ball
Tis the best time for late season romance
Come everyone, enjoy the dance
Autumn’s colors deck the halls
Listen for Love’s eternal mating call
Love is born from a single glance
Emotions of the heart are enhanced
As they two, walk down the promenade
Lady Autumn is bedecked in her finest gown
Colors so vivid can nowhere be found
Hear Ye, Hear Ye, tis time for Lady Autumn’s ball
Come, everyone, enjoy the dance
Listen for love’s eternal mating call
Emotions of the heart are enhanced
Copyright © Linda Barr | Year Posted 2012
The soft brown days of falling leaves are here
Moving towards the winter of my demise
Resting peacefully, I contain its fear
Know I'm closer to the day death will rise
Traveling time, remembering yesterdays
Searching still for new hours of tomorrows
I'll glean the richness from the longest days
And dispense of all my quiet sorrows
Knowing what's been and the effort sustained
From desires to failures and all between
I'll toast to memory and what it contains
And cheer long for times that love intervened
I'll await winter, never fear its cold
As I've tasted life and slowly grew old
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2014
The equinox in autumn evens out
the nights and days and makes them equal length.
I lie outside because I am devout,
but you, dear Sun, eventually lose strength.
I dream in winter of each afternoon
we meet in summer. . . passion at its peak,
and I can play as if I'm a cocoon
wrapped in your heat till night time makes you weak.
Oh, Sun, I need again for you to surge
for hours on end, so I can take you in
and at the close of day, I can emerge
your monarch, tinged with scarlet for our sin.
Spring comes, and with it comes the moment when
a kiss of sunshine I will feel again!
Written by Andrea Dietrich/ 3/7/13
For "A Kiss of Sunshine" Poetry Contest
1 original, poem on the theme of .A Kiss Of Sunshine............
Any form is acceptable.
Now for the "Take Two" Poetry Contest of nette onclaud
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
The growing dusk draws this fall day to term.
October crowned in warmth and brilliant light.
The sun across it arc shines to confirm,
that these fall days be passionate and bright.
Heroic are the colors autumn wears.
Yet, soon its rich-hued robe will fade away,
to know the sting of winter's icy airs.
We wish our coldest season would delay.
The gleanings of these golden days are rich.
We hold such gifts within our hearts, sublime.
Nostalgia is the providence from which
we warm our souls the span of winter-time.
Stand firm through dormant seasons, sharp and cold.
Soon warmth will grace spring's light to be extolled.
Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015
Mayte, Autumn Child
She'd rather when the season changes
from humidity to serendipity
to make discoveries at a turn
when the autumn leaves
fall to the ground
creating a tapestry of colors
in an unbroken sequence
A chorus of red, green and browns
blending together in natures song
as in a round
to greet the new weathers chill
She is galvanized by the change
of gaiety and glee
but it's not just for her
it's also for me.
written for Maria's love of Fall
(c) Ralph Sergi
Copyright © Ralph Sergi | Year Posted 2013
seasons is the relationship.
changes a lot.
SUMMER tells us the value of FRIENDS.
WINTER tells us the caring of FRIENDS.
SPRING is about the quarrel with the FRIENDS.
AUTUMN tells about the LONELINESS.
THUNDER occurs when you fight with me.
LIGHTING occurs when.,
i miss my LOVED ONE.
RAIN occurs when.,
i spend time with my LOVELY ONE.
BREEZE occurs when you give a SMILE after a CRY.
that's the life,
which i spend with my DEAR ONE.
Copyright © lavanya ramamurthi | Year Posted 2014
The caramel leaves seem to fall from sky
In waves, as zephyr sings through chimes and eaves
Its song that whispers a fall lullaby
As a gentle rustling wind through autumn leaves
September a time to slow down, be still
Slowly now we have less light_ more dark
A drawing to home and hearth seems our will
Beckoning to fill with bounty our hearts
Caramel sauce for those crisp apples near
The heat of summer is in distant past
None of that snow of winter yet to fear
Watering chores of summer now are past
All things for coming winter out in place
Now one can slow to a snail's simple pace
In honor of Brian Strand's contest...
Click on"About That Poem"
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
Leaves twirl through the chilly air
Leaving naked tree limbs flailing
Soft sweaters cover me with care
Winds caress with gentle breezing
Crackling and popping beneath my feet
When I walk across the dirt pathway
Colorful leaves even cover the street
Creating oak, poplar and birch bouquet
Squirrels carry nuts into their haunts
While birds begin to fly toward the south
Melancholy feelings start to taunt
Bringing suspicions of winter’s mouth
Autumn is a season of colorful charms
When harvest begins at all the farms
©2014 by Regina Riddle
Written on July 24, 2014
Copyright © Regina Riddle | Year Posted 2014
Another walking among seasons and holy beads
As our thoughts moves clouds in a grey sky,
And paint the leaves above our heads;
With a priori color of serenity, your eyes try
To open the white gates of transparent joyous morning;
The air got the scent of hot apple pies, the smile -a meaning
Of what the fingers are touching and what they are dreaming;
Are those our guardian-angels who silently walk by?
The rain of the morning tea falling from heights;
A new painted bench seemed to be almost dry;
White statues sit on the grass near the brave knights;
Two angels with glass wings have just learnt to fly.
But, leaves` procession under the kiss of the wind;
Buds of faith and hope live in philosophical mind.
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2013
Tumbling, tumbling, maple’s chameleon leaves
swathe blonding grass that is longing to sleep,
A Mennonite farmer hand-bundles wheat sheaves,
Harvest won’t wait and his field will not keep.
Fumbling, fumbling with sodden dresses
clean from a washing on this windy day,
A Mennonite wife hangs laundry, blessing
God’s bounty, His gifts on lovely display.
Crumbling, crumbling, pieces of pumpkin pie
warm from the oven and perfectly spiced,
Mennonite tots lick forks and watch geese fly,
Later they share wood toys, just a few suffice.
Humbling, humbling, these people of autumn
who toil endlessly, then Christmas welcome.
August 15, 2012
Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2012
The singing moon serenades our two eyes
Come the autumnal celestial skies
The deep orange moon a beauteous glow
As the large moon starts its evening show
Low in the sky on an autumnal night
To the eye a large memorable sight
On autumn nights many hunters can see
As the large moon sheds it lovely light free
The singing moon, hunters and the harvest
These names in autumn the moon is now blessed
To lovers the moon sends out its love song
To help guide lovers to whom they belong
An orange glow our skies it adorns
Just after sunset to the new dawn
© 10/03/2013 ~GG~
It was a contest entry but it just closed 5 seconds before I could enter lol
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2013
The solar perigree is all too brief,
departure signalled by the falling leaf,
bright colours in their duller Autumn hue
can glisten in the early morning dew.
November mists obscure the rising dawn
as coldness primed with frost welcomes the morn,
and sometime lingers into early night
with damp, translucent, eerie demi-light.
Some random days remind of Summer's call
to warm the country lane and urban sprawl,
their brevity prologues advancing cold,
already settling in, the Winter mould.
The visusl beauty drifts as shifting sand,
inexorably, just as Nature planned.
Copyright © Mike Roberts | Year Posted 2013
As we were eating an omelette with tomatoes
I asked my wife if we ever had sex because I had
difficulties in remembering it or rather picture it.
She said yes and said I was quite good at it which
was flattering like being a good driver, I was once
offered a job as taxi-driver but said no too boring.
Then slowly I remembered something I had to
do late at night when I would rather read a book
as there was no TV back then.
I remember it as a sweaty embrace, the fumbling
and the ridiculous positions and then to be careful
pumping along till she was ready and at ease.
She wanted to sleep close to me her hair in my face
and I was thinking if lucky it will take a week before
I had to do something with her peculiar needs.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015