I have never seen a flower blush when I took it's hue
and held it there a prisoner captive to my view.
I have always heard the song that's in the autumn breeze
playing taps in harmony with the forest leaves.
I love the smell of rain that brings the springtime into bud
and swells my love of nature into a teeming flood.
I celebrate the cycle of the daytime into night
and find an equal blessing in the shadow and the light.
I've always felt affinity for all created things
and surrender to the pleasure that their beauty brings.
And though I could spent a lifetime sailing drops of dew
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've often sat myself by gentle mountain streams
and overflowed the dams that were holding back my dreams.
I've breathed the scented forest on the mountainside
and washed away my sorrows in an evening ocean tide.
I've laid down in a meadow and debated with the moon
and spent some quiet moments on the surface of Neptune.
I got married to a zodiac with one of Saturn's rings
then spied a super nova and went on a cosmic fling.
I've run away to nebulae in galaxy brochures
and bathed in scenes of wonders on distant planet shores.
Every cosmos in creation could parade before my view
but I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've never seen a tree once withdraw it's shade
and deny a creature the comfort of its aid.
I've never seen any anger in the sun at noon
when it burns relentlessly on the desert dune.
At sunrise I take an oath to live with all my might
and reinforce my gratitude each and every night.
I could spend some hours riding on a crystal flake
drifting wildly in a gale mindless of my fate.
Many times I've been through trials of wind and rain and snow
then sentenced to the splendors that the seasons show.
And though I've searched throughout creation, I must say this is true
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
Copyright © John Wilowski | Year Posted 2012
The frozen sap of mirthless trees,
The fractured flow of icy streams.
The howling wind that claws at life,
The forest shrouded in endless white.
Skeletal ice hangs from warm lit homes,
....brittle fingers, glacial bones!
Gibbous moon with light unclean,
Casting shadows barely seen.
Wide tongues of sleet lick hands and feet,
Frost etched people on lacquered streets.
Witches Sabbat the darkest rite,
All doors are barred on Halloween night!
Children sleeping, tucked tight in bed,
While witches brooms fly overhead.
Cock’s crow sounds in the dark of night,
Putting the cabal to frenzied flight!
The children waken then start to yawn,
Their smiling faces greet the new dawn.
Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2016
Please speak to me my lovely friend
With leaves stirred softly by the wind
Under enchanted autumn sky
Where your susurrate sounds drift by.
Sing soft melodies in choir
As leaves glow as if on fire.
I feel your abject dying pain
When wet and cold from chilling rain.
I remember spring at your birth,
How you brightened verdant earth.
And then in summer your soft shade
Where under your cool leaves I laid.
You always spoke or sang to me
While holding close your mother tree.
But now in autumn's silver sky
Soft spoken leaves whisper goodbye.
© Connie Marcum Wong
September 17, 2016 Poem of the Day
Leaves talking - Poetry Contest
Sponsor John Lawless N/A
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
Shed their stunning leaves
Glorious gown of browns and gold
Nature’s delight for us to behold
26th January 2015
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Salt and pepper hair in wisps and thin,
criss cross lines on brow and round the chin
Eyelids lower like the setting sun
resting pools of blue, their day's work done.
Like October trees, what leaves remain
the colours in her sorrow, in her pain.
Within that bony tissue paper shell
her kindness and love still intently dwell.
Slow breathing and soft pulse inside that frame
her soul sat back and played the waiting game.
We watched her cast off on that July day
in peace, her course set, gently float away.
Sailed over the horizon, seeming gone
as ships do, she was really sailing on
blown by faith's wind to a long promised land
she stepped ashore and took her father's hand.
( a sort of reprise on my poem 'Are you there God?')
** Thanks to CayCay Jennings for helping me tidy it up. Luv ya x **
Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015
Leaves are beauty of the Master’s touch
…beds of leaves for homes of squirrels and such
Bunched by opossum in the hollow of an old oak log
…arranged in a thicket by a caring mother hog
They wave to a lonesome soul in the summer breeze
…nature’s devise of cozy blanket in winter’s freeze
And you ask me if I love leaves and trees
…provides great shades for summer’s picnics, ”Leaves”
Leaves have butterfly flight, floating gracefully about
…catching sun’s rays bobbing multi colored with clout
Golden, russet and burnt orange of autumn equinox
…Beautiful LEAVES!, Thank God for nature’s clocks.
In Honor of Carol Brown
Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011
The crying of a lonely night,
pine's branches drooping moonlit white
as sighing winds touch heaven’s gate,
without the need to stand and wait
for every roaming rainclouds' stare,
she needs to ask the why or where
in moments when pain veils her face
so sullen, yet so full of grace;
as her swan wings clutch twilight's hues
dripping tears from September's dues
yet, eyes open their crystal plumes
with hopes of flowers' newborn blooms
Contest: Joyce Johnson's The Rhyming Game
By: nette onclaud
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2011
Crisp Autumn seeps through the day
Dew balances a fresh cut blade
Tangerine skies seethe God's Grace
Summer's vehment blaze...replaced
Slipping sweetness around my pillow
Cool winds dance with weeping willow
Stars twinkle down through thick dense trees
As spirits dance in fresh Autumn's breeze
Copyright © Jane Bowen | Year Posted 2009
Writing different forms I find so hard to do
Yet I wrote a poem using the form dodoitsu
Wrote it with hope thought it was just fine
Liked by others, yet wasn’t placed this time.
I have re-read it since and in my mind it’s a star
the Veils of Autumn playing on your senses afar
It is there for all to read and enjoy that’s true
Not making the list, doesn’t take away the view
That this poem creates for all to see
Proud of this poem, cos it was written by me.
Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2014
I can see you; try not to hide.
How beautiful you dance side to side.
I can see you in my dreams at night
Wondering, should I trust my sight?
How can I kiss you my little leaf?
From the beginning wondering if;
One slight storm or one little wind
Bring us together until the end.
Which one is better, which one is worst?
Drowning in water or dying of thirst.
Spring is gone, summer is past
Autumn is falling faster and fast.
Hope to touch you when we fall
Golden Lovers love the Fall.
Step gently when you walk,
Speak softly when you talk.
Thousands of Lovers if they could,
Making the autumn understood!
Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2015
I look across the windswept canyons, see the blazing trees.
A gold and russet ocean swells beneath the autumn breeze.
It surges as the highest tide to reach the mountain tops.
An endless wave of beauty rushing on, it never stops.
And in the sky of tangerine, its gulls are birds that glide
across this sea of fantasy into the eventide.
The disappearing flock of geese and waning sun imbue
nostalgia that engulfs the soul enraptured by the view.
My valley home, like ocean’s strip of shore, now calls to me,
a voyager who must depart from gilded mountain sea.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
A CLASSIC SUMMER IN GREECE
Viciousness and mystery erupt on arid soil.
Summer heat and idle time can make the spirits boil.
Languishing in stuffy rooms with very little sleep--
Night time flickers of the light-- imagination leaps.
Heat that beckons times long past invade a fevered head—
Athena pleases lovers mid her goddess silken bed,
Grecian legs march bravely –- prelude Olympian races--
Soldiers dream they sail away to see exotic places.
Heat waves shimmer landscape –men will do what they are told--
Spearborn soldiers helmeted sing down a dusty road.
Tho in mind they join their lovers whispering by the sea,
Drink of mountain waters --rest their head on sweetheart’s knee
Helen, when she sailed away –a wayward selfish wife
Without a backward glance she risked the cost of human life--
Was it the heat that made her crazed to do this foolish thing?
A fit of summer boredom could create this witless fling.
Autumn winds are blowing now-- Troy’s nights turn cool and fair--
Does Paris try to ditch her --as naked Helen combs her hair--
Does Hector tell his brother--get this woman out of here--
Does Helen beg to stay-- and tell her lover not to fear?
Heat can play the brain and make it dance a backward tune--
Clarity as sun tricks down—repeats a former June,
Perhaps there is a lesson learned from heat that sears the soul--
Summertime romance will write us each a tragic role.
Victoria Anderson Throop ©
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2013
Sitting downstream in this delightful setting
When you close your eyes there is just no forgetting
I can still see the scene that my mind has captured
The most glorious of colours leaves me in rapture
The bluest of sky seeps through a canopy I behold
Mirrored on the stream it's dreamy blues unfold
Ancient stones sit like islands in the sun
Creating ripples of motion in downstream run
But it's the avenue of colours that delights my eyes
Season after season she always leaves her surprise
Greens mix with golds, ochres yellows, reds and browns
A spectacular collage paints this bright Autumn gown
Within weeks to a month until the last leaf falls
Then her seasons move on as Winters installed
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010
Will Shed a Tear
Woke up this morning to a new dawn;
Looked outside and Autumn had gone
Winter was here and the wind did blow
Then everything was covered with snow.
Old year had gone and new one neared
Following Autumn that had disappeared
With colorful leafs beautiful had been
Soon will be able to see them again.
About Autumn, what do I like the most?
In Halloween they always have a ghost
But still does remain such a pretty scene;
Leafs covered grass which once was green.
Autumn to many has been known as fall
Then under Christmas tree will be a doll
This will be my favorite time of the year
And now that it is gone will shed a tear.
James Thomas Horn
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2014
Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind
Memories and places they haunt yet again
Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf
Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream
A current to carry from birth right on through
Filling our moments with cares which ensue
A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends
Babies and children and time long since spent
Familiar, intangible, just out of reach
Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech
Winter is looming and summer is past
A time for remembrance the years gone so fast
Beauty is captured in my last breath of life
The sparkling colors in the warm golden light
Do mimic the glory and wonder be told
In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold
Copyright © Sara Ray | Year Posted 2006
The Autumn Wind
the autumn wind is free tonight!
free to soar and fly tonight!
clouds of hawks one-hundred meters high
dance in the wind across the sky!
arrows of geese at cruise-missile height
dodging boomerangs in errant flight
sundown's purple, orange and red
frame booms in flight above my head
great beams of light spiral the sky!
miracles surround us, from on high
a part of me aches to be free!
jumps from my hand, eager to see!
what lies beyond, above the trees!
each throw stronger, higher, bolder!
'till time stops beating
.......to pause and wonder
the autumn wind is free tonight!
free to soar and fly tonight!
by James Marshall Goff
Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2009
THE KIRK YARD
THE KIRK YARD
This day is just as peaceful as this day has been so long
I listen to the birds chirping just to me in their last song
Autumn descends upon us – but all the land is still green
The warm rain gives the birds - their last chance to preen
It is only times like this – which I am at my most content
Memories I hold within the Kirkyard - are only to me lent
Within this Kirkyard - I get to see deaths glory at its best
As I read the gravestone inscriptions of those now at rest
I can hear all the idle chatter of those so unearthly ghosts
Saying to me you are welcome for today we are your hosts
A Peacefulness prevails here - as only a kirkyard can give
Into another time frame of folk - and how they used to live
Passing by my eyes images of long ago for me displayed
That disappears into the walls of the kirkyard as in a haze
Ghostly figures even stop to stare at me in their so eerie way
What do they think of me - here dressed for the modern day
A silence descends - no words in fear these images will break
Every image captured like photographs into my eyes do I take
Sun sets with a sudden loneliness laden underneath its weight
Every gravestone whispering to me - till I reach the iron gates
The kirkyard is dampen now - with its coming of the dark night
Only for it to flourish once more come tomorrows morning light
A soul tired and so weary you can see it etched across my face
As I pass beneath the lamp light that showers me with its grace
To myself only fearing just how much fear that I have in death itself
But once carried through the Kirkyard gates I will only feel its wealth
Indiana Shaw . . . (*-*)
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2016
Autumn's breath, a gentle sigh
Trees waving this year's final goodbye
I breathe in air, cool and crisp
As colored jewels fall, a fleeting wisp
Yellows, orange and reds, mix with green
Leaving autumn's rainbow, neath my feet
For a glorious while, then to retreat
Among autumn's breath, away they go
Scattered hither, to and fro
Carried away by autumn's breath
Awaiting winter's cold blanket of death
Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013
I stopped by the old red barn today...
I guess I was there about an hour.
What will they do with it after I'm gone?
It's been in the family for five generations...
Great Grampa's initials are carved in the door.
Once, Pappy fell from the loft and broke his arm.
It's where I watched Dad's mare
Give birth to my first pony.
And, it's where we told Mom and Dad
We'd decided to get married.
Such a stable part of my family's history,
Now, leans abstract against the autumn sky...
I think I'll go back tomorrow...
And take a few shots for the family album.
Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2010
The breath of spring gives us new hope
after a long winter is our only way to cope
Fresh leaves are so green and new
bringing forth life in another hue
Flowers, the shade, the birds and bees
all busy with life as we look to the trees
Summer songs from the wind as the trees talk
just waiting for a couple to rest after a long walk
Here and there a yellow leaf shows its locks
the autumn season is just around the block
We loose a few leaves as we watch them fly
but we gain much more with fruit for a pie
When mornings start to get a little colder
the colors in the leaves get much bolder
As Autumn leaves fall and hide our path
winter is around to corner to show it's wrath
Edward J Ebbs - October 7, 2011
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2011
My garden window lets me know
That soon the autumn winds will blow.
Summer’s sweet dance will be replete
With wet days turning into sleet.
An abundant harvest. . . sublime,
With ripe fruits gathered just in time
Before light snow covers the ground
And hoar frost on the fence is found.
In shortening days, autumn’s breeze
Takes one’s breath in colorful trees.
Leaves, shivering, drift one by one
As they welcome the autumn sun.
Soon icy fingers cling to eaves
And the swirling dance of the leaves
Keeps time to earth’s harmonic song
As each season dances along.
September 16, 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
I'm borrowing a gorgeous country
I may borrow it as often as I can
I accept their courtesy and smile
I smile back and are happy to provide a helping hand
I am enjoying the sun in this sunny land
I think of autumn and the rain back home
I'm enjoying the day with all my enjoyment
I hope the day could've been much longer
I am delighted with the floral scent that fills the air
I listen to the waves rolling along the seaside
I listen to the prayer that comes from the mosque
I feel a quiet peace lowered into my body
I'm borrowing this beautiful country, just for fourteen days
I am free of thoughts, free from time ..... I'm in my paradise Turkey
Turkey - 20.09.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012
Calling out with his loud shrill cry
While winging through an azure sky,
Low clouds back light intrepid flight.
Strong talons grasp prey in sharp sight
As feathers float on current's wave,
I view a raptor bold and brave.
Majestic in his swooping quest
He soon returns to guard his nest.
Fledgling beaks open eagerly
Accepting gifts voraciously.
Tree top dwelling, their sacred home
Where King avian victors roam.
The golden eagle, soaring high,
Flies triumphant through autumn's sky.
October 10, 2015
Golden Eagle Contest
By Shadow Hamilton
Flies, clouds, Tree, nest, Fledgling, Calling, swooping
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
In high definition...
There is an old oak tree in our backyard.
This old oak limbs weep like a willow.
It branches out to the stars.
The moon effervescent shines above.
During the winter, the moss hangs low.
I see the wind blow through its leaves in autumn.
There is an old oak in our backyard
Where a widow sits beneath weeping over love lost.
The dawn has broken.
The dew is high.
This old oak is well defined.
She has limbs that reach high in the sky.
The sun photosynthesis makes each leaf shine.
Her depth is sublime.
This old oak is part of home.
Many visitors she knows as a widower rests before he moves on.
This old oak tree stands tall
As a City's landmark.
Penned on November 22, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
Potpourri of seasonal change drifts in the air.
Summer wanders near the clouds and everywhere.
Beach's pride of blazing sands is growing dim.
Soon the painted landscape wakes upon a whim.
Seeds are sown of Autumn's riches nearly here.
Summer wanes; we say hello to Autumn's cheer.
Leaves will change from sparkling green to golden blaze.
Now a bit of crispness lingers in our days.
Summer has it's wealth of fun and lovely weather.
Yet I adore the Fall when folks are drawn together.
Beauty all around and holidays I love.
Surely Autumn's sent to us from up above!
written August 31st, 2014
Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2014
The city streets are littered with sodden remnants of fall,
a chilling wind moans low between brick walls;
my vacant arms enfold my shivering form
to shield a heart grown weary of the storm.
There is a melancholy feeling to damp leaves upon the way
as though some precious spirit has packed and moved away.
The sidewalk's sheeted puddles reflect the faces that I love
peering through the golden ramparts in God's city up above.
I bend beneath the streetlamp where my face with theirs' will blend
remembering us together the way it will be in the end.
Copyright, November 12, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
Whisper sweet the words of September
land softly on the times we remember
Haunting scent of faint elder perfume
still lingers on the aging bloom.
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2015
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013
Summer is on the turn, into Autumn we now head
So close this day approaches, inside many heads now dread
We now view through our eyes, our windows of life
What do we see now, do we absorb our awaiting strife
Be like me and others and listen to peripheral sounds
It's what we have come to know, it's us all around
Day by day we view, the turning of life's greenery
But what are we going to see after, on this future days scenery
Is it intrepid anticipation, human wondering entering it's abyss
We're the blind leading our blind, just what do we make of this
The eve of this reckoning day, in hourly wait we await
Autumn has taken it's turn, are us humans in use by date
This morning we have awaited, curtains drawn I view
There's something different about the sunrise, sees me a through
From my balcony I witness, now seeing from where I am
Shape shifting no longer applies, I just don't understand
In sorrow fill hungered loss, I lose life's lust for thrall
From my balcony I now witness, I view when shadows fall
Inspired by "Touchstone's" <> "When Shadows Fall" from their album "The City Sleeps"
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2012
There in a bed of petals rests
The latest blooms burst from their nests
Beneath the trees in even's shade
Those nodding flowers dipped and swayed
And one more tender petal fell
The coloured bed of scents to swell
I'll rest me in this quiet shade
'Till sunset's glow does quickly fade
And rest me in these petals sweet
No kingly throne made greater seat
From thence the view I shall survey
The setting sun, the flowers gay
And if, perhaps, I then should tire
I'd follow this, my heart's desire
And there upon that petalled bed
I'd rest my weary, happy head
Perfumed by fragrance from the ground
To go where pleasant dreams abound
Written for the contest by the same name. First Place.
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013