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Sun Autumn Poems | Sun Poems About Autumn

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

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Details | Rhyme | |

Until The Sun Rises

No trick or treaters on the street
     they're all in bed now, getting sleep,
Candies piled high upon the floor
     collected from each neighbor's door,
Smoke rises from the pumpkin's grin
     the day's magic still burns within,
Restless spirits are set free to roam
     and find their way back to home,
An earthly reunion until the sun rises
     with those who've met their demises,
It's time for October's farewell scene
     on the final night of Halloween,
The harvest moon is setting low
     opposite the rising sun's gentle glow,
Wandering souls leave us for another year
     and say goodbye and shed a tear,
Because, they surely miss us, too
     their tears become the morning dew,
To stain the leaves a shining gold
     and welcome in wet November's cold.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Sonnet | |

Ode to Autumn

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

Details | Rhyme | |

Indian Summer

Memories of autumn linger still
The pale sun loiters on the hill;
A prodigal year now grown old
Is gathering all her days of gold.
Flocks of birds now eager to go
We share the dream with footsteps slow;
We meet beneath the apple tree
Join hands in silent company.
We will not part love, oh not yet
Too soon the weary sun will set.

The crickets cease to sing their song
The gold and russet wilt away;
The crimson trees stayed too long
And all the sky is wet and grey.
We know at night the frost will fall
And scar the asters on the hill;
The golden rod and sumac all
Will feel the hand of winter's chill.

But love, it is not the time to part
I need to hold you near my heart;
Yesterday was such a golden smile
Today we might love awhile;
Till autumn dies and love forget
And we must leave, but dear not yet.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Free verse | |

My Son Moon and Star

            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~
                        and thereafter               

Copyright © Shanity Rain

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.

Copyright © Jemmy Farmer

Details | Free verse | |

While I was standing near My Autumn tree

The audio version of the Poem can also be heard on my You Tube 
Channel 'RavindraKK1' or by using  the below given URL

While I was standing near My Autumn tree The Sun was fading, with all its grandeur and beauty, Somewhere far, very far away amid the Poplar trees. I was in a state of enchanted stillness, Beholding the gold which was showering on me, With every gush of wind coming from the east. The earth was wrapped in a lovely darkness, Slowly the Sun rays slipped away from the hands of the evening, but It embraced the night in her arms perhaps to console its forlorn heart. I was glued with the fragrance of Autumn, while the Sun was still fading slowly, Leaving only a yellow and radish glow in the sky. The golden leaves of Poplar were still falling on me, Coming to me while flying from the Poplar tree. Suddenly the birds said adieu to me, reminding me once again the passing of time, While I was standing near my Autumn tree. Ravindra Kanpur India 4th Sept. 2011
Poem submitted in honor of Brian Strand's contest SEPTEMBER-YOUR CHOICE

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Details | Kyrielle | |


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).

Copyright © Brian Strand

Details | Personification | |

Quaking Aspen

We are the high altitude sentinels.
Our small groves freckle the high plains.
We keep to ourselves, mostly
upon the snow burdened peaks
where our ashen trunks blend
and our barren branches cling
to icy white glitter.

As the breath of winter ebbs
we watch the crystal spring run-off
growing ever greener with envy 
of how it races down the hill; babbling.
We whisper this to one another
in the crisp mountain air, solemn
as we keep watch.

From our station on the precipice
we behold fully the majestic sun
revering at dusk how it paints the sky.
In the failing warmth of autumn, 
we offer in turn, our own reflection of
magnificent golden sunset skies 
in our shimmering yellow foliage. 

We keep company with pines,
firs, spruces, and other prickly sorts.
Conifers aren’t social, which suits us
as we keep mostly to ourselves.
Sentinels must remain vigilant, after all,
watchful for approaching danger. 
We quake from paranoia, probably.
Our bark is pale, above all, for fear.
We’ve seen your kind before.
Your kind we watch most carefully.
If you look close, you will see
from our thousand dark eyes
we always look closely back at you.

Are you dangerous?

Submission for contest: Trees Personified
Hosted by: Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

*I loved the aspens when my family would go camping in the high Uinta mountain range in Utah. They are beautiful and they can grow at such high elevation (above 10,000 ft) it's really amazing.

Copyright © The Grahamburglar

Details | Sestina | |

A Changing Heart

Longing for heart-quiet
in the inevitable fall
into Winter’s short days of sun
forwarding to Spring’s
longer days — a circling back
in the sameness of time.

Heart-and-mind-numbing time
with no respite. A longing to quiet   
those thoughts playing back
battle after battle. The awful
repetition. Mind and life wasting.
And, in the darkest season,

the conviction that the sun 
will only half-rise in this lifetime
of mine. Feeling that sting 
as from a bee’s disquiet
of green slumber. Swelling to a fault,
every damned day. Slamming me back,

season upon season. Holding me back.
Chilling me with doubt that sun-
shine can overcome rainfall
and that, invariably, given time, 
better times will come and quietly 
advance into Spring. Fast forward, past Spring 

to Summer, and onto Fall springing
back to Winter, and round again. Flashbacks
ever more glaring under the sun, then, quite
out of the blue — a glance, a nod. Overrun 
with fluttering, my heart paces in time
with fledging love’s free-fall.

And, with the passing of another Fall,
Winter heralds in the sweetest of Springs:
daffodils and Easter bonnets — a lifetime
of celebration ahead, no looking back.
Past risk and reason, I bask in the sun
that is love’s shine. Rain or shine, quiet

in the peace of it all, Fall after Fall, back
to Winter, Spring, Summer. Quiet as a Spring sun 
bursting through clouds. Love, for all time, requited.

Copyright © Ruth Sabath Rosenthal

Details | Free verse | |

Autumn Colors

The glistening yellow sun shines down upon the golden brown fields harvested today.
Our gardens are cleared of the red, green, yellow vegetables and our canning is underway.
As we look across the orchard the pickers are on the last of the apples to be picked and sold.
The rustic color of the leaves are beginning to furl and we remember that fall has been born again.
As the sun sets it looks as if a fire was set to the orange, yellow, brown, red and green leaves.
A light breeze sets in and we hear a rustle as the leaves drop lazily upon the once green grass, as we drift off to sleep.

Written for: Russell Sivey's "Autumn, Fall Colors Contest"
Written on: 08/16/2012 By: Carol Brown
2nd Place Winner

Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown

Details | Ode | |

Ode To A Puffball

To you plump puffball,
Squatter of the mushroom fungi. 
May your soils be rich
And your spores be many!

Moonstone child of nocturnal reverie
Pride tempts to invite fallacious vanity.
Creamy alabaster skin,
Spongy firm of flesh within.
A saucy lunar face to taunt the sun.
His nomadic gaze leaves no course for fun.
The sun edges off towards autumn skies,
Pragmatically steady; contemplatively wise.

The sun may have kissed her on a whim,
Crazed butterfly flutters; needles to pins.
Translucent skin, her conceit and crown,
Blushes from saffron hue, to Dijon brown.
Physical metamorphosis; transmutations collide,
She becomes a phase converted seasonal bride.
To celebrate this new found core,
She sends up clouds of dust, and sleepy spores.

Carpe Diem.

Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald

Details | Light Poetry | |

- There Will Be A New One -

                            Having wonderful summer memory
                                it warms our hearts long
                      Summer memories that we can bring back
                           on the cold windy autumn evenings
                      Summer memories we can dream of when
                              snow falls during the winter 
                   It will warm our hearts in front of the fireplace
                                  on a cold winter night
                           Summer memories is a new journey 
                                 when one thinks back
                    Yes, we can almost feel the sun warm and the
                                 smell of beautiful flowers
                          Close your eyes......running barefoot in
                                  a meadow of timothy
                       Watch the sunset..... sun bathing in the sea
                                         Ah yes.....
                                 Yes, it was quite a summer
                   After the fall, winter and spring comes summer 
                        again and we can create new memories
                               that we will take good care of

A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Haiku | |

haiku 7

sunrise exploding
the horizon separates
yellow leaves on grass

©donna jones

Copyright © Donna Jones

Details | Sonnet | |

October's Crown

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

Details | Ode | |

Ode to Sunsets

The sun descends
Every single day
I'm alive.
The reds and oranges
Blend to purple,
Exploding out of a bright
Center, circle that closes
More and more every
Until everything evaporates suddenly
Into the night.
If you're lucky,
It's just an introduction to
The glittering ceiling
Sphere of stars.
Feel free to applaud.

It drips down mountainsides
While painting the endless blue expanse
With vibrant watercolors.
I stand on a hill,
Trails loop away from me and
Incandescent juice
Splatters the sky.
I walk homeward.

A sunset is an ending
And this faithful goodbye
Is a brilliant finale that
Will always wash away
Into darkness,
The sunrise
And warm showers of light.
This is a performance
And although the stage is
Never completely empty,
I don't always have to watch.

I think that sometimes it might be better
If the sun never set
And I could permanently hold
Every moment at once
In my hands and never let them
Touch the ground or
I wouldn't dare to ruin great things
But I'll be a witness to them
I'll point and shout
Look at that 
This is beautiful!
I didn't create it
But I can appreciate it
And my art can be my
Smile as the sun
Stains the sky
Pink and orange.
I'll watch until it dissolves.

The sky will always move forward
From the burning scenes
And I'll race it home.
Nothing I do will make it stop but
I'll enjoy it while it still exhibits
The inspiration as fervent as a fire
I sit around with
Friends in New Mexican mountains,
Or on a dew-soaked lawn
Laughing until our faces
Are no longer visible,
Sitting on a deep black trampoline
The moment before it mirrors the night.
I'm still smiling.
Homeward is where I'll always walk;
But I can stop to watch the setting sun.

Copyright © Scot Nielson

Details | Free verse | |

And, you will be holding my hand

Please, let me imagine that we will come here again 
In the warm springtime rain, or in cold winter chill, 
When the ground glistens clean, and keen in the sun
When we breathe clouds of cotton and the morning is still
We will wear our astonishment, with feigned awed surprise
At the splendor that lays bare, as the frost stings our eyes 
We will wear wooly jackets to keep us snug warm
While snowflake confetti will bounce off my nose
And you will be young, and I will be fair
You will take my two hands, and pull me aside
and kiss me and tell me how love never dies
You will promise the sun, and the moon and the stars
You will tell me you love me, that the world will be ours         


We will look up through the tree tops, that whisper and bend 
To see sun assure us that love cannot end
It will shine new with promise, with a soft velvet light
That a day like today, will come once again
For today is a gift, that comes from the Gods
Filled with tomorrow, and a season of love                                           
While whipperwill music will dance through the air                                          
And the songs of the valley, will sway in the breeze
In the hushed fading sunlight of the late afternoon           
Down by the meadows where the wild flowers grow                
We'll again laugh at the thunder, catching us by surprise
And be glad for the raindrops, that splash by our side
For today, has an ending, and now we must go

But let me imagine, that we’ll come here again
We will stand here together.  We will marvel and praise
You will be holding my hand, as you show me the way
And you'll capture my heart, as you've captured my days

And when the times we have treasured must come to an end
We will marvel with pleasure, in our memory's glen
We will come here together........and our spirits will blend

This will be our will be holding my hand




Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |


so far the days of singing rays
have come to meet their sullen end
twixt nights of joy with hidden ploy
a sweetly tone, they do offend

O gasp! the serpent true must strike
O gasp! the lustful raging psych
whose cares are lost forever long
roaring out, O hear my song!

now mute...peace...whist...still
ideas soon drain, decisions fill
a mind at pace with thoughts that spill
float soundlessly thy solstice chill

the misty seep, foreboding reap
emotions run amok like thieves
for darkly cast, a favored past
along is lain misguided leaves

-Sam Robinson

 Iambic Tetrameter

Copyright © Samuel Robinson

Details | Pantoum | |

Summer's Ending

6 stanzas...four lines each...

Summer paused on the path to pleasures of autumn dreams.
Alas! Summer's picture perfect days were soon to end.
Dare she stretch to steal through autumn's open door...
She turned, laughed and wrapped around rose hedges.

Alas! Summer's picture perfect days were soon to end.
Nature would close the curtain on her whimsical days.
She turned, laughed and wrapped around rose hedges
Butterflies chasing sunbeams sang duets, that soared.

Nature would close the curtain on her whimsical days. 
Summer ran to stretch in sun ablaze on rainbow-ribbons.
Butterflies chasing sunbeams, sang duets, that soared.
Pouring rains, storms, nature teased while she mused.

Summer ran to stretch in sun ablaze on rainbow-ribbons.
Wild, carefree, night, day, summer flaunted her dazzle.
Pouring rains, storms, nature teased while she mused.
People, chased summer fun, voices lit in expectation.

Wild, carefree, night,day, summer flaunted her dazzle.
Her endless path through stream and gardens glowed.
People, chased summer fun, voices lit in expectation.
Summer basked in her days filled with countless joy.

Her endless path through stream and gardens glowed.
Summer paused on the path to pleasures of autumn dreams.
The world took her picture to store as treasures for eternity.
Dare she stretch to steal through autumn's open door...

Copyright © Cynthia Alvez

Details | Free verse | |

September Weather

Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.

Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.

From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.

September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.

But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.

I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.

Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.

I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.

Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.

September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.

I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski

Details | Lyric | |

Scarlet Moons and Indian Suns

Written August 29, 2013

She could have had my son
As we'd spell our names as one
On scattered ocean shores
Beneath that Indian sun

I loved my ma
And I loved her well
I loved my pa
And that musty smell

I hope to see them some day soon
I hope to see them smiling too
This Earth they left a bit too soon
Much thanks unto the scarlet moon

Some day well all be joined as one
Under scarlet moons and Indian suns

I love my family
How I miss this feeling
Of constant embrace
Awaiting at my feet

So come and pray for rain
To wash away our pain
Before the winter stains
What autumn left to drain

I hope to see them some day soon
I hope to see them smiling too
This Earth they left a bit too soon
Much thanks unto the scarlet moon

Some day well all be joined as one
Under scarlet moons and Indian suns

Copyright © Brandon Carter

Details | Elegy | |

Autumn Sun

You will find me again

In the place you’ve never been

Once everything’s said and done

In the heart of the autumn sun

When the weather drips its hues

Faint, fading colors

 the leaves will lose

Drop to the earth

 with a hint of white	

Falling under trees

 In the days’ waning light

Waves of Gold grown old

All your secrets and troubles untold

You shall call and I will hide

Forever will I be by your side

Copyright © Kirin Lawrence

Details | Free verse | |

In my grave

A weak shout louder than a gun shot
Out of a mouth full of depressed misery and dead emotions
A walk to infinity
A search for the light in a place so bright, yet so dark
Between sun light and dawn
Where birds sing for roses

Away in distance
Where destiny lead my way

It's going to be okay
Last words my ears choose to hear
To relieve the pain in my heart
Darkness filled my eyes
Don't try to make it shine
I smell the end
I feel the tears of grief drowning me alive

I lay down in my coffin
Under the soil
In the freezing ground
Isolated from all around
No need to make a sound
Or wear the mask that hides what's beneath

Surrounded with woods
beneath the ground just as I was
Tossed as a stone
Like a leaf fallen from an autumn tree into a lake so deep
With my skinless skull and wrist bones where cuts of regret cant be seen

I lay In my cave
In my only home
With my only friend
My rival my enemy
I can't let go...

Thoughts rushing into my mind
Bursting in and out
Words I never thought I'd speak
Words my tongue never dares to say I know how it feels
Now after I'm gone

My lips are fading
My soul is drowning
My body is decaying 

I reach the limit
Where heart beats doesn't matter
Where I can't breathe the air
Where my only road is to hell
I'll bathe in fire from this day and forever

Never made you proud
Forgive me and make it better

Two roses laid on my grave
Endless time passes as the sun goes by
Nothing stirs 
Pure melody in silence
A selfish wind blows taking with it one 
and there goes one in vain dropping it to far away
I gaze through emptiness
Waiting for my eternal time to end
For my angel to appear
And save my weeping spirit from my sins
Which have become my reality...

Copyright © Nesma Alnsour

Details | Free verse | |

Return to the Sun

In the dismal fog of an autumn day 
My thoughts were as scattered as leaves in wind
I spied her walking, she looked alone
Alone, alone, in the cold afternoon

In utter gloom without a face
There was something compelling that caught my glance
In her stance, as she slowly passed 
A kindled sparkle in her eyes
Her ragged clothes, her worn out shoes
Yet still a smile, came shining through
Her figure dark, still carried on
I could not help, but turn around...

I wondered what her story told
What trials and pain, had brought her here?
No place to dwell?  My eyes welled up...
So caught in tears like misty rain

I called out "Please, ....what is your name?"
Am I a fool, to chance this game?
How many seasons have waxed and waned
Since last I have confronted face to face
To one who seems so out of place?

I could not pass her on this road
I begged her now to share this load
I had this gift!  It was not small....
What good, if I ignored the call?
I may be foolish....but do not care...
I am now compelled to share it all

I witnessed hope, and it was pure,
And I was sure

My money so well spent....I have no doubt
The sun is coming out, a light turned on...
I find my eyes are wet...the chill is gone
She's cried such grateful tears, I taste my own
I owe her more, than she could know

My heart so filled with gratitude
              ..........And I have grown


Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | I do not know? | |

The Way

Its the way the breeze whispers

across my skin

and the sun caresses


in his warmth


its the way you love me

even when you’re not here

Copyright © rachel blake

Details | Haiku | |

Life inside

Suns ember through the tree.
Life inside.
Chakras blooming for spring.

Copyright © Dayneissa Byrd

Details | Rhyme | |

A Leaf In The Cruel Sun

A leaf in the cruel sun
On dust where grass once grew
Fallen from the Olive tree
Wilting shield of Autumn hue

A leaf in the cruel sun
Rustic, peeling and weathered
Distressed with time
Rusting like a Byzantine treasure

A leaf in the cruel sun
Withering parchment page
With tones of melancholy
Bleached by glaring light and age

A leaf in the cruel sun
Curling edges of papyrus
Dry, cracked and stained
Like An ancient map of Cyprus

A leaf in the cruel sun
Baking in the heat
Parched skin and veins
Torn by a scar that cuts deep

A leaf in the cruel sun
Timeless stepping stone
Engraved by footprints
Where saints and idols roamed

A leaf in the cruel Sun
Fading gold on rich blues
Floating forever
Isle of myth and tombs

Copyright © Johndinsky Official

Details | I do not know? | |

the Sun of Summer

Summer's sun shily entered the season
keeping the Northern Hemisphere's Southern regions
comfortable, a spirit quite forgettable.

Deep down, everyone knows
it's just a matter of time, till it shows 
its true color upon all living creatures.

And August went on fire, sweating out
all the anger ever held - burnt out
to a crisp, wisp of hot air, ceasing to exist.

What was it that blew out of proportion?
apathy, perhaps, making us anxious 
wishing for things to matter, sense-filling?

Needs to happen before Autumn comes
knocking on the door, our hearts gone numb?
Our lips parched, our skin wrinkled, dried.

This wave of heat has turned us into beggars,
barren of pride, destitute, pining for the waters
Looting from anything wet, loosing footing, falling.

Our eyes then lift up as one to the heavens
sunfilled, tearing, realizing pray is a better manner
our hands grab another, another, another.

We wait in faith, we sing, we dance for rain,
what transpired in the hearts shines like sunrays
and the heavens can't help but open its door.

Thunder clouds gather, noses smell what's about to happen
faces brighten into smiles, watching the descent of water
our thirst becomes assuaged with its pure flavor.

And the new morning issues, the incredible breaking news.

© 09.01.12

Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix

Details | Haiku | |

Summer's End

Autumn leaves
Summer Sun's warmth
Surfing temporarily

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi

Details | Blank verse | |

A Date

Rushing through lusty August towards
A vault of blue, a longing promise.
It is like waiting for the visiting moon,
The day when the silver light shimmies past
My bedroom curtains, and I will look up
And I will feel the burning of the heart.
Mist will pour down from the Sun
And the same mist will fall from my mouth.
I will no longer be in need and
It will all sliver pass me.

Copyright © Isabelle Woolley

Details | Light Poetry | |

Loving touch

Your hands are like sunshine that

warms the inner parts of my soul.

The rays warming my inner being,

keeps me thinking of how the colors

of the flowers are so vibrant and

powerful in  their activity.

As the flowers dance in a slight breeze,

the sun gives way to darkness and the night sky embraces the stars so numerous,

so shiny, so many.

As the night fades, the sun  warms the day,

The breeze picks up the flowers in a dance, and your hands warm my soul again,

with the rays from the suns warmth and the shadows of the colors show the love inside your touch.

Written by:©Betty Bolden


All poems are copyright!©

Copyright © Betty Bolden