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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 | 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.



© 2013 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.


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               
                             Mom


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 | |

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

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apYEemRpNRA

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


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 | 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.


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


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.



Details | Haiku | |

haiku 7

sunrise exploding
the horizon separates
yellow leaves on grass

©donna jones


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 forever.......you will be holding my hand

~~~


______________________________________
For the contest sponsored by Thomas Martin
        







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.

Hold fast, through dormant season, sharp and cold.
Soon, warmth will grace spring's light to be extolled.

                                           10-25-14


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

quaternity

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


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...



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


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.


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
Well...now 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...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Way

Its the way the breeze whispers

across my skin

and the sun caresses

me

in his warmth

 

its the way you love me

even when you’re not here


Details | Haiku | |

Life inside

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


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

4-30-04



All poems are copyright!©


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.


Details | Couplet | |

Things I Happen To Like

I like to watch skeins of geese flying in the autumn sky,
And I like the smell of frying bacon and luscious cherry pie!

I like to see the sun tinting Pikes Peak's crown in the early morn,
And the glorious Colorado sky as the sun ends its daily bourne!

I like to feel the tug of a rainbow trout on my fishing line,
And graceful garlands of snow adorning a ponderosa pine!

I like quiet evenings with my spouse nigh a warm and glowing fire,
Where we reminisce and dream of things for which we would aspire!

I like family reunions with my kids, grandkids, uncles and aunts,
And this may sound curious, but I like sharp creases in my pants!

I like to sit on the patio to muse and watch the squirrels at play,
And I like to go to church for inspiration, fellowship and to pray!

I like to listen to classical music or bury my nose in fascinating book,
And take leisurely evening strolls along a rushing mountain brook!

I like ice cream, tater chips, meatloaf, Brussels sprouts and chicken fried,
And I like the American flag that I shall always salute with pride!

I like it when the Denver Broncos and the Colorado Rockies win!
(But, alas, neither team is doing that well, much to my chagrin!)

I like to hear the rolling thunder and rain gently falling on my roof,
And the rhythmic clip-clop upon the pavement of a horse's hoof!

I like barbeques and fireworks in the park on Independence Day,
And the mulitude of stars winking at me from the Milky Way!

I like the smell of roses and the rejuvenation of April showers,
And I like work - I can sit and watch it for hours and hours!

I like the charm and beauty of a little child's beguiling grin.
I like Laurel and Hardy and Jack Benny with his squawking violin!

I like to socialize with folks with can-do attitudes and high ambitions!
(I like most everything I reckon, 'cept sloven schmucks and politicians!)

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Haiku | |

Summer's End

Autumn leaves
falling-
Summer Sun's warmth
fading
Surfing temporarily
suspended


Details | Free verse | |

Tom Thumb (The Cat)

Tom Thumb, with split ears and abscess,
came to us on an autumn night.
A feline atlas with alley hard shoulders,
but a calm, cool warrior nonetheless.
Named for his Hemingway mittens,
an irony of bulk to literary lore,
for he surely would make a short meal
of a murine steed fit for a King’s jester.
His years of wrangling had earned him,
A craggy pelt of scars under a crooked halo,
all wrapped up in a ripe orange hirsute fleece.

There was something about that gnarled old pumpkin,
that found our hearts warm and happy to have him.
Though his life had been hard, he was quick to find
my Mother’s lap to be a very restful place.
Dear Tom spent the better part of a decade in our home.
The years of ease softened his shoulders,
and hastened his purr, though he still had spunk.
The leaves of autumn learned to be weary of old Tom,
for he would shred on sight, the first leaf to fall.
As the years passed, the warmth of the sun,
found more often, Tom sitting with closed eyes,
enjoying the feel of his crimson fur.
Until an afternoon, late in the harvest season, 
poor old Tom had been sick.
He sat proud in the sun for one last long sun bath,
warm as our hearts between his apricot strips.
Bast came for her brother the very next day,
to fetch him off to the land that never forgets.
“Fare-the-well dear Tom and may the autumn leaves,
suffer your claws for as long as the sun never sets.”


Details | Free verse | |

Where Do The Butterflies Go

Teardrops of dews glistening
Breaks the days of dawn
Caterpillars shedding shells of cocoon
Awakening with yawns

The little fairies quaintly appear
Dancing their favorite dances, all the day long
But, where do the butterflies dance to
When the sun hides her head...
And the days are shamelessly gone?

They fill up my gardens
Frolic from tip of tulip to end of the rose
Next to sunflower, daffodil the flutter flies flown
Never attempting to speak even one little peep
Keeping their precious secrets
From sun up until the sundown

A parade of floats
Viceroy to the Monarch whom he tries to pretend
Royal and regal, ginger and black
Passes the hours while waltzing with flowers
But where does each of them go as processions end?

Dainty, the Painted lady curtseys
Among the swallowtails that swan through the weed
And the Admirals through the blade
But soon to hide away
Flying rainbows of season’s beginning to fade

And my magical gardens now they are bare
The little fairies all have disappeared
Following the whisper of wisps, of a new winter’s air

It’s the beginning of autumn
And soon will come the billows of snow
Did they take journey to a summer, in a far away land
Where oh, where did the butterflies go


Details | Rhyme | |

Autumn in Vermont

There's a chill in the mornin' air as autumn in Vermont unfolds.
Splendor is revealed as trees assume their cloaks of reds and golds!
Fodder shocks gleam in the risin' sun and 'punkins' sport a tinge of rime.
Crimson and yellow apples are ready for pickin' havin' reached their prime!

In yon vale peekin' above the mornin' mists shines the steeple of a church,
Towerin' above the riot of color of its guardian trees and a grove of birch!
Skeins of snow geese wingin' southward grace the pristine sky.
The serenity of the autumn morn is shattered by their plaintive cry!

'Tis syrup renderin' time as maple trees surrender their free-flowin' sap.
Their hardy boles again withstand the trauma of an annual 'spinal' tap!
Apples are 'pressed into service' to make cider for sippin' by a cozy blaze,
As folks gather on winter eves to reminisce about the good ol' days!

Crusts of ice begin to form on streams flowin' 'neath covered bridges.
A dustin' of snow is tinted by the dawnin' sun on the yonder ridges!
Along country lanes the sun casts its mellow glow in the late afternoon.
On moonlit nights majestic stags are silhouetted against the harvest moon!

Families bundle up against the chill to enjoy hayrides and wiener roasts,
And toast marshmallows over a roarin' fire and tell of lurkin' ghosts!
An Indian summer is welcomed - the comin' winter gales it will delay.
Autumn in Vermont is more spectacular than even Mr. Rockwell could portray!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Haiku | |

Timed right

Cloudless sky at dusk
Gradient sunset fades black
Our pace was perfect


Details | Quatrain | |

A place to make my mark

I look at my life and the journey I’m upon,
As the sun hits the horizon it marks the dawn.
My life is like a chess game and I the pawn,
As I take my next move the pathway is gone.

Gray skies are simply some clouds passing over.
Perhaps my luck is changing I find a four leaf clover.
I wait for the return of the sun, it raises my hope.
My future is before me like a carrot dangling from a rope.

Sometimes the descent is far worse than the fall,
Maybe I should run and pick up the ball,
In the concept of time I remain rather small,
I gather up some speed but then hit the wall.

I look to my heart surely it knows where to go.
What was previously new, the cracks begin to show.
I had hoped by now that I would just know,
You must plant a seed for something to grow.

I look all around and take in all I see.
All of these things become part of me.
I see some leaves fall and know what shall be
Haunting shadows, cast by the lifeless trees.

For now the colors take my breath away.
The air is so crisp on this autumn day.
The animal scurry to find food for the winter
The fabric of life becomes a tree that has splintered.

Although the fabric is tattered and looks worn,
I wonder to myself why was I born?
Is there something I’m missing or is it in front of me,
The closer things are the harder it is to see.

I wander down the street and take a seat in the park.
The sun starts to set, soon it will be dark.
Life seems to glow or perhaps it’s a spark
As I look for a place to make my mark…


Details | ABC | |

Could be

 I wake up before the sun from a cozy bed

I walk outside and feel the crisp autumn chill

So I put a stocking cap on my head

 

I walk through the back yard

heading for the woods

doing something city boy

only wish they could

 

I arrive at my stand

and check the direction of the breeze

before I climb up ole faithful

a dying, dark barked maple tree

I make myself comfortable

as the sun stretches its arms 

for the sky

producing iridescent colors

I live for the outdoor

and that's one of the reasons why

 

Not far behind me a freshly cut field of hay

in front endless rows of cornstalks fill the way

 

I begin to think of a tradition

My son and I on thanksgiving day.

he is still here with me

even though last November he passed away

 

I start hearing cars doors shut

its coming from over the hill

carrying an aroma of cinnamon

It's my favorite! Pumpkin pie

Justin, I'll be back, But for now Goodbye


Details | Haiku | |

AUTUMN haiku







                                                    AUTUMN
                                             shivered  yellow sun
                                      struck by autumn demureness
                                             scurries to the west