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Best Seasons Poems

Below are the all-time best Seasons poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of seasons poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Seasons Poems

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A Man For All Seasons by Bickerstaffe, Keith
MAN-MADE SEASONS by Sankey-Lewis, Iris
OWNER OF THE SEASONS by Raindrops, Falling
in an eve or seasons wake by creech, bruce
Love and Seasons by Varzena, Bre
SEASONS COME AND GO by Mupetesi, Vongai Tinomudaishe
2 Versions of 4 Seasons by Krieger, CJ
The Seasons: Poet's Dozen by Canerdy, Janice
Seasons Of The Heart by Cabanes, Nudershada
The Seasons from my Meadow by Leeds, Roxie

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The Best Seasons Poems

Details | Seasons Poem | |

And They're Still Blooming



                                            Your magnolia tree
                                            filters the afternoon sun—
                                            I carved our names in its trunk
                                            Those beloved flowers
                                            impregnate the sudden breeze—
                                            You are miles away from here


Copyright © Ruben O.

More great poems below...

Details | Seasons Poem | |

The Forest

"What falls out in the forest stays in the forest"

The tree is trimmed, 
Proposing passion, protecting sweet sweat
Naked with nothing to bear or wear
Nature's breath lightens the atmosphere
She breathes in, he breathes out
The sound of rain drumming down deepens
Every form is near its end, 
Deep in this forest night
A Gentleman among the trees, 
Hibernating new seeds 

"On the other side of the forest"
He guides my path, with ebony eyes
A convincing vent, I swallow
The fear is broken, I sleep in glee
The whispers disappear 
Dying in peace by the secret bayou 
Broad leaves lay under raw landscape
Stilled by the chills he quills
A quarter past midnight 
Mr Romantic prepares my sheets of Winter

Contest: "Write Me A Winter Poem"

Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Seasons Poem | |

The Magic Hourglass

April's come and gone. Now May is here; the grains in the hourglass have already started sifting down. Dew is on the roses. Days of linking daisies will soon begin. Transparent skies of night will show constellations when the fire-breathing dragon comes to freckle school-sprung children, who baring skin, will run with glee through sprinklers. Soon enough the kids will be tumbling in leaves fallen from the trees of their back yards, and then following bright autumn's demise, the filtering of seasons' sand quickens till every grain has drifted like snow, burying another year. May is on her way; again the hourglass, like magic, is turned over. For the Show, Don't Tell Poetry contest of Thomas Martin

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Seasons Poem | |

As seasons change

It was a September to remember, but soon came to an end the Indian Summer The end of the month brought an abundance of harvests Harvests of happiness and warm memories of yesterday As the leaves tumble down, Autumn days are here again It's a season that holds nature's palette of amazing colours Shortening days lead to shivering moonlit evenings, as the stars shimmer upon fields covered with hoar frost You can see birds migrating amongst the sweet smell of cool air Wind howls through the trees blowing away remaining leaves The rain becomes colder during gloomy wet days, as people rush home to shelter in the warmth Removing the frost from your car leads to icy fingers every morning As light snows falls on hill tops and mountains,
You know the season is changing and Winter will be here soon Shadow Hamilton's seasonal contest 20 September 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Seasons Poem | |

The Eternal Tree

I am Alive    Forever and always         Essence        Rebirth        Renewal
          I have earth to ground me      I have wind to move me   I have fire to cleanse         
     my     spirit        I have rain      to quench    my thirst    for growth
                      I have sun to    enlighten me        feed me  I am my own mother
              and an extension of the whole     I am   Earth         wind
                       rain   sun  fire    I am as old as life  and I am     as young
   as time   I am shelter to those who seek me   I am a bird  a flower and  the breath
              of the earth itself        I am exactly where I want to be     I am life
       I am first and last  the beginning and the end   I am one from many
                        I am what I am   I live  I grow  and I die. I am  Reborn unto myself
                                                          I am the great circle                   
                                                           My limbs know no                          
                                                           Boundaries; while                            
                                                           My leaves whisper                      
                                                           The one truth of the                      
                                                           Whole  through the           
                                                           Seasons changing
                                                            Colors that I wear 
                                                            Upon my   heart's                  
                                                            Sleeve, I'm home
                                                           To Earth Mother’s
                                                           Melodious  Life; I
                                                           Sing for the whole
                                                         World to hear - trees
                                                       Are Earth Mother's Song
                                                       Blowing 'round the leafy            
                                                  Globe; eyes of the world song 
    {{{{{{{{{{{{{{ Of the Mother   breath of the living   soul of the earth }}}}}}}}}}}}

***Senses evoked here are: Touching, Tasting, Hearing, Smelling and Seeing
***Elements evoked are: Water, Wind, Earth Metal, and Fire

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

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liquid little stones

liquid little stones
skipping and skittering free
on shared umbrellas

Copyright © Rickie Elpusan

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Spring Bud

                          shivers under  
                       a rug of loneliness,
                    a sleepy heart huddles
                   against such memories 
                 of togetherness and not of 
               goodbyes, hating to disperse 
               the fiery rhymes of your lips, 
                as well as the warmth of its 
                 sweat...tastes like red wine, 
                   then it beats...and beats
                     gently, as it envisions
                          you, in an early

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Spring Reverie

I heard the maytime robin sing
His merry voice has wakened spring;
Each golden note bursts forth to soar
Where sound and blossom now restore.
The drowsy earth sheds winter's rest
And all that slept find spring confessed
That radiant song that fills the air
Brings good news beyond compare.

The birds proclaim with joyful tune
The raptures of impatient June;
With potent scent the blooming flowers
Perfumes time with fragrant hours
A nest well hidden in a tree
Holds new life we can't yet see;
The crimson rose perfumes the gale
The virgin lily crowns the vale.
Where sun and shadows come to dwell
Seductive spring will cast her spell.

Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Seasons Poem | |


An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.

Copyright © Jim Fish

Details | Seasons Poem | |


I count my walks through herbs and shells never knowing how old bones can be fleshed from a heart bound on scrolls of endings, and here I am among rows of an orchard… feet like dust sanded by twelve months of famine and feast ; somehow the maple boughs wither from the laundry of evenings’ regret. Often times, like the gypsy rose, I climb into the lattice of my family tree smelling its tar and citrus that knit arms glossed by twilight’s love, then raked by froths of autumn’s debris. Closing a fence as another year shuts off, I am between silence and scream… eyes groaning with the music of an anonymous breeze sheltering a collected beauty of tragedy and the comedy of drama: trials pinned by veiled nights when kinship endures the flood of weather's hands. It is so, I mean, the certainty of taming the last ride before new seeds from a new year twirl upon unborn fruits… I disrobe the old bones to greet the unknown. .......................... "“In times of test, family is best.” – Burmese Proverb Carol Eastman's Enter The Best of 2014 Contest by nette onclaud 7/14/2014

Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Four Sisters

Spring stirs her eager young
Giving life, renewed to those
Who stand about and doze
She whispers hope, of things begun
Beneath winter's cold repose.

Summer, smiling golden rays
With ample breasts of rain
Feeds, and soothes the pain
Of changing white to green to gray
While dressing her wards again.

Fall, donning multicolored hues
Weeps, her leaves cascading
As her life is brilliantly fading
She takes with her the morning dew
Leaving frost in the trading.

Winter, wearing crystal shards
Bares her nudity to all
Standing gracefully tall
She lays a white robe upon my yard
While singing her wanton call.

And I.....well, I sit passively by
Watching through shielding glass
Four sisters marching past
Thanking God who dwells on high
For His daughters stark contrasts.

                    Timothy I. Brumley

Copyright © Timothy Brumley

Details | Seasons Poem | |

August rains

The steadily falling cold August rains
Continue to pour upon Cheshires lanes;
over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Soaking the grass, splashing the feet.

Stands the Combine in the shed,
The unripened apples hanging rosy red,
Stands the caped heron all alone;
The glinting eye as cold as stone.

And in amongst the many puddles
We step around like our troubles - 
So lurch ahead with our retreat
Like drunken fools in the street.

And through this months darkly frowns
The cleansing downpours wash the towns;
Scrubs the spire from ingrained time,
Absolves the guilt from the crime.

Copyright © john fleming

Details | Seasons Poem | |



they’re almost gone now
how brown, bare the branches look
some toys in the leaves

when rain turns to snow
how sad those two last roses
brave faces with tears

apples      bruised apples
scattered on the frosted green
and this twiggy frown

music in the wind
late october’s final song
dancing red and gold

talk of winter now
old dog by a crackling fire
shutters rattle      pings!

photo of dear dad
he loved that fulsome willow
fallen leaves      marker

Dave Austin

Copyright © daver austin

Details | Seasons Poem | |


Dearest young leaf,
Why so melancholy?
Thy emerald sheath has not borne Time's folly.

Think not of Autumn's deathly brilliance,
Of colors rich and flaky grounds,
For Thou wilt weep every moment hence,
While Springtime's youth still bounds.

Greet Thy greenness with glee,
For thy root to the Oak remains strong,
Aeolus' fury on Thee has no effect till Summertime gone.

So worry not of what is to come,
Enjoy Thy existence, little one.

Copyright © Michele Nold-Godleske

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Moonlight Magic

The night was fickle as November
A time when all sleep in slumber;
A moist mist hangs over the river,
And a still cold moon hangs as a sliver.

A soft liquid light captures the glow,
Of the first few flakes of new fallen snow;
She shines her light on turret towers,
And tucks in bed the sleeping flowers.

Her crescent rides through clouds that fly,
Shining on wolves as they howl and cry.
Etching the transient phantoms of night,
As wings of an owl brush the dust of flight;

The crystalline light shines on lovers,
Yet pale and still the moonlight hovers;
To tip with silver the restless waves,
And on tombstones marking silent graves.

Cast your moonbeams, cast them down,
As you float in your silver crown;
And the ribbon of dawn will wrap your head,
And put your shining eye to bed.

A repost

Copyright © elizabeth wesley

Details | Seasons Poem | |

When the Flowers of Youth Fell

When the Flowers of Youth Fell

Winter stayed late that year
courting Spring with a fury.
Beautiful gifts of snow
and dazzling ice, he gave her.
It was during such courtship
I found myself lost -- adrift
in a place that once was ....
decades from this century.

Where mud and blood held hands
beneath duty and honour
and kindred flowers fell
to sounds of bugle and drum.

Smoke arose through Spring's tears.
Images of Blue and Grey
pilfered my breath as cannons 
rained thunder upon the brave.

How was this happening?
This was not where I belonged!
My time was not this place
and I wanted to go home.
Where Winter courted Spring
and snowmen fell -- not flowers --
upon the muddy ground
as snow reigned upon the brave.

The smell of gun powder
danced about my head and nose
like spirits for the faint --
arousing life ... far from home. 
"Get down! Get down! Get down!"
The half-crazed voice plunged me 
into the mud and blood
and I lay frozen in fear
beneath his weight ... and the cold. 
So cold, no hearts were beating, 
no breaths were being drawn, 
just the smell of sweat and blood.
The smell of rain and death.

Clutched tightly in his pale fist 
a tattered blood-stained note
bore the words, "Please ... for
mama ...."      
I tried but could not scream. 
And, I felt daylight passing ....

As shadows took the brave,
Winter's folly tamed sweet Spring
with final coats of snow ....
and snowmen fell -- not flowers. 

Deborah Burch

Copyright © Deborah Burch

Details | Seasons Poem | |


Spring Cool breeze gently blows Brilliant butterflies dancing Rainbows in motion Summer Glorious gold beach Sandcastles reach for the sky Children having fun Autumn Crisp leaves fall slowly Green glens veiled in falls blanket Sunset beneath trees Winter Cold icy morning Dancing whirling wonderland Snowflakes from heaven Collaboration with Shane Cooper 15th January 2015

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

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The Winter of My Tears

"Alas! The lessening light, the worsening my plight- My face- a somber expression..." excerpt from *a poem by Just That Archaic Poet The summer of my laughter’s passed; my happy skies grow overcast. No meadowlark is singing here. The winter of my tears is near. In vale of shadows, sun hangs low. I sojourn now where chill winds blow. Into November’s gloom I peer. The winter of my tears is near. Before I meet eternity, a snow shall come and bury me, Its brilliance - anguish soon will mirror. The winter of my tears is near. The summer of my laughter’s passed. The winter of my tears is near. *Poem interpreted: "Equinox" This is technically a kyrielle sonnet for the Reinvent, Reimagine, Revamp! Poetry Contest. Now used for the Winter contest of PD

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

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Autumn's Dreams Of A Country Road

Autumn's dream of a country road
Where houses are few and moving slowed.
Leaves are turning gold_ red_ burgundy.
Inside a warm home apples are candy.
In a barn or cellar cold winter foods quickly stowed
Against winter's coming and inches snowed.
Autumn dreams of snuggling nights when windy
Breeze carries tune;close by snacks_ hot chocolate handy.

Contest: Autumn's Dream
Sponsor: ^Rick Parise
Click on:
"About This Poem"

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

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Dreaming With Butterflies


Copyright © Sharon Smith

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Let Me Go

You have caged me for too long
I want you to just let me go,
I have to spread these feathered wings
I need to feel the wind's blow.

You know that I love you truly
I said that I would never leave,
I want to see the rain's dance
Not just sit here and perceive.

The scene never changes, day after day
I want to go where white roses bloom,
I have never seen an ocean's wave
And neither have you, I assume.

I need to see the autumn tree's change
I want to see the snowflake's glisten,
I am wishing on the stars as they fall
This is my dream, so please just listen.

I want to fly in the sky's blue
I need to feel the sun's burn,
When I have experienced these wonders
I promise that I will return.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Aster 'Blue Autumn'

(This is a specific type of Aster with full name Aster 'Blue Autumn') Aster 'Blue Autumn,' summer wanes. The shining sky of dusk is drenched in splendor. Tremulously, I watch shadows that arrive all to soon-to purloin sun's last rays. Aster 'Blue Autumn,' how you thrive in fields amidst a throng of goldenrod! And always you forego the chill of nights that come to steal away the last of Summer's days. Aster 'Bue Autumn,' Virgo aches, and you're re-birthed from star dust that she cries- to bloom beneath blue skies until the fatal time when breath is snatched . . . Pensively I wait. For Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver's ~ Flowers or Stones ~ Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Seasons Poem | |



Testing the water with bare toes
I will recoil
to the misted edge of hoarfrost
softened soil
peek through eyes of Crocus
and Jonquil
at the emptiness my promise
must fullfil.

I’ll whisper to the branches shy
with cold
to remember seasoned stories
they were told
beckon to the passing birds -
let us celebrate this
un-chilled night.

My warming fingers, reaching gently,
thaw river ice
as softened earth imparts my scent
to foggy spice
worms wiggle in the drizzling
April showers
as dawn tempts the stretching vines
climb empty bowers.

I will touch each aching heart
with sunshine’s gift
releasing all from stifling 
Winter’s grip
nestle with the Cardinals
and Jays
languish in renewals
warming haze.

submitted to Seasons – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton

Copyright © John lawless

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Beautiful Day

Awake... my first breath in the quiet of an April dawn
becomes a halted gasp, caught and hung in mid air
A warm, silent smile deepens as eyes are drawn
toward the distant horizon where the face of the sun rising
Veiled by misty, morning dew spreads its warmth through
dense morning haze across skies perfectly inked in gold
and raspberry hues, making a promise of a beautiful day.



Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick

Details | Seasons Poem | |

Indian summer

Indian summer. . . 
a gathering of leaves dance 
quietly to death

For "Silence is Golden" haiku contest by Rick Parise

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong