Poems about seasons observe changes in weather, light, growth, and the rhythms of daily life. A recurring sign outdoors or a familiar annual routine can connect the passage of a year with memory, anticipation, and personal change.
Read the examples below with attention to the place and season each work presents. Notice what returns and what is different this time. A cycle in the landscape may echo the speaker's experience, but precise details keep the scene from becoming only an abstract comparison.
spring
fresh, March
digging, planting, pruning
newborns, greenery, pumpkins, cinnamon
harvesting, canning, trick-or-treating
lazy October
autumn
Gasping leaves start falling on the distant hills
Scent of cinnamon and rich harvest prayers
Stir the silence of those gentle dewdrop tears
A voice of praise, the wind sends its chills
Impish squirrels play on the lawn, dancing together
Rhythm of hope gotten in each nut they find
Drifting from limb to limb, just as God designed
Preparing their harvests for the colder weather
As the mountains change from green to brown
Fluttering leaves dance through the frosty morn
We look to skies and see the clouds they’ve worn
Know those graceful leaves will keep falling down
The quiet rose unexpectedly,
distinct in the early fall of
less colorful autumn days,
it allowed the warm heat of summer passed
to fade into the deferring tasks.
Garden ends, leftovers of spring
wonders and magical beauty lost to newer things,
trees containing color shades
a palette of mysterious parades
in yellowed, peach and crimson reds
counting the days ahead.
An October of nature's wonders cleared
of bud and bloom left here,
in storm clouds that loomed near,
winds blowing restless and free
rains that brought us to our knees
beneath the shadows of the trees.
You can see it if you look
the stillness of the slowing brook,
it's pleasantries of which God speaks
the bounty for the calm gentleness of the meek,
holding onto the times that may yet be
this living within the want of universality.
Go to the forests, across the open seas
embrace the magic and mystery
of the blessings and gifts remembered
come in the Octobers and Novembers
of life living in every burnt ember.
As summer's heat gently retreats
Long hours of sun to reduced days
Foggy mists create a haze
Nature marches to new beats
We don't want vacay fun to leave
Jumps into pools, the sand, the beach
Soon, solemnly, just out of reach
The Earth's rotation, changes weave
As painted by some brilliant brush
Hues of royalty displayed
In piles of color children played
Autumn linger, please don't rush
Squirrels in the branches rustling the leaves,
Scurrying up the trunks of the horse-chestnut trees,
Lightly dancing through autumn’s browning shroud,
From branch to branch, thin branches bowed.
Hunting through the leaf litter, gathering the nuts,
Through the furrows, ditches and cuts,
Head on a swivel, survival’s a must,
Autumn’s bountiful harvest banked in trust.
The cycle of life roaring against the age,
Before winter arrives with its icy cold cage,
Transforming the landscape, hiding the bank,
Its fingers grasping, tugging the veil.
Where once existed deep reds, yellows and browns,
White has taken over and frosted the ground.
Many will live but others will perish,
Before springtide appears and winter is vanquished.
New life arrives in bitter green shoots,
And once again scuttling come reds and greys,
The gnawing, the nibbling, the reconnaissance of trees,
The cycle repeats as seasons march on.
S epia tones soon will turn to green
P romising their panoply of renewal
R andom blossomings perfuming the air
I ncremental offerings of nature's bounty
N orthern winds averted and rerouted
G iddy birds and bees punch drunk excited
F arewell to stubborn winter lingerings
E ffervescence bubbling to the surface
V eers toward a budding season of awakenings
E mbellishing a drowsy world with vivid colours
R uby coloured blooms shortly underway
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Life is your harvest
purplepeninportland
The combine drones in the field
gathering corn planted in spring.
The father holds the wheel—
his son pulls the wagon
to take the corn—
efforts measured
by what they yield.
The father bears his years,
his love for family and farm.
Branches of trees dance in winds,
a day of winter they will bring
silent moments under a cover of snow
reflections of sun as the year passes
over his spread of land as it rests.
Will you linger with me when July graces
the spring- dew of my breath
hailing the glow of spring's flowering?
How about the end of summer wind gliding
on ember of hope burned
by the heat of season's nights?
And come bitter November,
would your hands cuddle mine
in withered age when flakes wheeze
of a hundred vague symphonies ...
except for unsolicited embraces
ready to enfold you when
winter candles wax the torpid kiln of infallibility--
If so then lead me on, on...
while autumn spirals through
pensive intervals more frequent
than the drift of upturned leaves in a space
of unknowing-- how much more
can the eternity of seasons etch
the piercing trance of time's flames
courting moonlight's evanescence
where forever is but destiny's kismet, not ours ?
Tell me about ever after...my seasons
are hungry again.
~
1st place
Hush in the daylight,
Tranquil in the night,
Time colours the sky,
Different portraits,
Different seasons,
So is my journey.
October 1, 2026,
Nette Onclaud,
Color My World Poetry Contest.
In my physical world on this planet Earth
Existing in the Northern Hemisphere
I see the beauty of four seasons pass
Like Winter's white, the pastel Spring reborn
Then Summer's vibrant blooms and varied greens
Give in to Autumn's spree of red and golds
I smell the brisk cold air of Winter days
And scents of soup and stew complete the joy
Yet come the Spring, the air is filled with balm
That summer blooms fulfill with perfumed air
To shift the cycle soon to Autumn's bliss
with smells of warm fruit pies and burning leaves
Oh yes, touched by the sting of Winter air
the icy cold of wind and snow outdoors.
And then by Spring's warm breeze that renews hope
To soon feel Summer's balm of beach and pool
Make ready for the cooling Autumn days
To feel the warmth of bonfires once again
I hear the Winter winds that blizzards howl
The steady April rains that nurture Spring
The booming thunderstorms of Summer's fling
And Autumn's sounds of harvest in the fields
Thankful for senses as these seasons fill
My blest physical world on this planet Earth
The light is changing now
Rays of the sun have begun to whisper to the bronzing earth
I Listen and look inward bracing my heart for the turn
The Darkness is palpable watching shadows become tangible things in the coolness of evening
my longing lying over me like a shroud ,
as the day surrenders to the night
When I see a flower start to pose.
I start to open my nose.
The fall air is wispy with webs and such.
Then the flower turns its head, it doesn’t take much.
With leaves leaving piles to rake on the lawn.
You would think a small flower would be buried by dawn!
But autumn flowers seem to grow just enough.
So that even when the gravel and footprints get rough.
That they poke out of the patterned ground.
Blue petals to be found.
When I see a flower say “suppose?”
I wonder if a beanstalk has toes.
And fall sleep in the blooms and leaves.
Wondering about All Hallows’ Eve.
brightest bulb shining
highlights trees with chill and dew ~
cold lemon canvas
(September Full Moon – Assiniboine)
Silent and colder
November is grey
dying leaves fall down
summer shades fading
grey branches sharpen
mixed leaf mounds sparkle
Contest: Color My World
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Prompt: Morning Pearl
Written¨ for contest: 092726 8:06PMCST
Upon the first step out of my front door,
In the language of the Fall season, the
Voices of gentle breezes began speaking
To me. A simmering relief from the summer's
Heat was flowing in cool and refreshing musical tones.
Yes, it was the second day of Autumn after a
Long and unforgettable nationwide hot summer.
Yes, I could tell that the sun was going to shine,
But not as bright and in much tamer waves.
I saw no dismal tones nor feels of grey.
I saw no deceptive looks of tangerine.
It appeared at least in my area of the earth,
That heaven spoke and summer complied.
Yes, heaven had painted and displayed a
Gorgeous day and called it, "Morning Pearl".
Seasons Categories
Read wonderful seasons poetry on the following sub-topics:
acrostic, autumn, changing, come to pass, fall, greetings, haiku, holiday, nature, of life, rainy, spring, summer, winter,
and more.
Definition | What is Seasons in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
summer, fall, period, winter, interval, spring, spell, autumn, enliven, mature, climate,