Creation Autumn Poems

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

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Details | Imagism |
  Wind breezes, rustling up leaves.
  Earth and grass, under your feet.
  Waves like coffee mug foaming; and glistening, sparkling tips.
  Your hands submerge and wet.
  Snowy white icebergs, mountain tops.
  There are a myriad of sounds and colors.
  All creatures at peace.
  Nature at rest.
  Visualize paradise,
  and enjoy it there!

Copyright © Ronald A. Williams | Year Posted 2017

Details | Haiku |
Peace of nature shows
how relaxing life can be
and can show you truth 

Copyright © Christian Childs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |
It is such great unity
That appears amongst the beauty
Of the bright light display?
Such colour, such energy within celebration,
Such a vivid canvas of man-made creation
That sparks with flair and passion;
To fall into the fog
Like all dying illusions.

Yet it is what it does for us:
Where we are drawn from our furnishings
That we clean in intervals,
Closing outside to a regular schedule,
Remaining well lit and sheltered
Resting our minds so dimly upon the
Soft and empty cushions
And hugging at the blind comfort
Of cover.

We are drawn from this facade
By another in itself.
Which brings us out like a beacon
Part Devil, half Eden
To then fade away
Like all illusions,
Leaving us quiet,
Revealing deepened images.
Exposed to chill
Peace climbs through our bones.

Let us stand together,
The great power that connects us;
The great unity
Amongst such beauty.

Till we once more return home…

Copyright © Aiden Asoll | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |
Very early Fall morning…crisp and clear.
Sitting on the patio, sipping hot coffee.
Only my path to and from the bird feeders,
Rain gutters hung on the stockade fence,
Has disturbed the beautiful, glistening dew 
Blanketing a lush, green Bermuda lawn 
Awaiting the season’s final mow and a Winter sleep.
Early morning sunsmile creates a mist, a little fog,
That artists have great difficulty recreating. 
And the sprinklers are making music too….
As I filled those bird feeders, 
Only the patient cooing of white wing dove
Waiting in the surrounding trees
Could barely be heard above the sprinkler.
Feeders filled, I walked away.
The air erupted with bird song.
Our giant privets were alive with hungry sparrows,
Each announcing breakfast.  
All the locals seemed to understand.
The robins and larks, the finches and cardinals chimed in;
But only the jays’ sharp calls could be heard above the din.
What a ruckus…but so beautiful a song,
It is a ‘wall of sound’ to be envied by rockers.
Orchestrated by Mother Nature….Mrs. God.
The sprinkler's barely heard....
ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch 

Squirrels wait out of sight.
One may bark now and then, but
They’ve learned that patience pays.
It’s not just time to feed those damn birds;
It’s time to feed the greedy squirrels too;
And chow time is well worth the wait:
Sunflower seeds. Peanuts. Suet.  Dried fruit.
You can almost hear them as they gobble,
“Mmmmmm.  Man, this is the good stuff, Bro’. 
I mean the good stuff.  What a life.  
I’ll never leave…not even for a girl squirrel.”  
It’s as if they think they’ll never eat again;
Every morning.
As if we hadn’t been feeding them 
Every day of their lives…and their parents.
If we could tell them apart.
They would have names.

Well....everybody's happy.
All this and good coffee too.
What a beautiful Fall morning. 

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
            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 | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Golden leaves transcend autumns harvest, contrasted by
Blazoned reds burnt offerings of summers final sacrifice to
The changing of the seasons, oh what a palette of magnificence,
Is nature set to the rheum of our universe!

In the chilling winds of falls grace, does the very breathe of
Winter chase, swooping and swaying through the branches
Of destiny thus to cometh forward, tenderly the trees do cry
Shedding their tears of color airy, brown to tan!

Racked piles of gathered teardrops, lain upon the lawns of
Evergreen yards, that are capture within the freezing breath
Of seasonal appease, for soon nature shall rest at ease, in
A blissful sleep, until awoken by springs warming whispering!

Rainbows harvest of autumn is this Kalightoscope of coloring,
A showering cascade descending in sheer brilliance reflecting
In the bitter sunshine of falls rebirthing, and the simple poet stands
Completely at awe, beneath these limbs of natural beauty,
Left alone to ponder the wonder he’s beholding!

Crushing footsteps smash against the idle puddle, containing
A single leaf trees sacrifice, the forget-me-knots remembrance
Of the summer gone past, and the winters fiery hearth of promise
To come, what a blazing embers of shadow to contrast, to a dreamer
Suddenly awakening from hibernation's spent sleep of illusions,
Now walking in a golden light of this autumn shower of the reflected!

Clinging do the lovers of this timeless season, bathing within their
Gaze lost amongst these trees of beauty, strolling along the lanes of 
Passions unforgettable moments, photo impressions memorized in
The human thoughts album, forever to remain untarnished by age!

In the fields the farmer puts his tools of trade to rest at last,
Gathering prides harvest unto him one by one smiling,
He’ll warm himself by the flames of family and tradition,
Until the toiling begins next spring, the man shall sits at ease
At the hearth of hard works fire, as the leaves of autumn fall!

Let the dreaming poet write, allow the lovers to stroll undisbursed,
And the harvester to rest his weary brow at last, for the golden
Leaves of autumn are falling, cascading unto the evergreen lawns,
Gathered together into the piles of leafy teardrops, of summer



Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Imagism |
Within the imagination lives a breath of fresh air.
A city full of people sharing and caring.
A man with a limp walks with his cane telling his community about all good things.
A child laughs in the park as her dog runs to catch a ball.
The wind is high and kites are let loose in the sky.
               What a pleasure to see joy in so many eyes.

Within another realm is a normal world where people raise families without 
     blemishes or scares.
This is where heterosexuals experience life and hold fast to their wedding vows.
They work for a meaningful existence and strive to do what is right.
               This is a world of pitfalls and perils afire.

Within the world and of God are the people of the universe.
Profound in faith and religion, they thrive on Mother Earth.
Knowing that two wrongs do not make right, they praise God and others are 
	       This is a universe perilous.	

_________________________________________________ _______| Penned on January 08, 2015!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Cinquain |
Colors Red, orange, gold Paint the fall foliage Nature's amazing masterpiece Displayed Dancing Leaves pirouette In the crisp autumn breeze Creating a crunchy carpet Below Inhale The cooler air With a hint of wood smoke Somewhere a fireplace has been lit Cozy
10/25/15 For Eve Roper's Autumn Stroll Cinquain contest.

Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
At twilight’s ease of dusk the autumn leaves do flutter in the
Evening breeze, trickling downwards across inspirations canvas,
Creating a multicolored cascade at sunset, a leafy rainbow clasping
From the tree tops heights, than blowing wildly astray on the breathe
Of the winds!

Limbs sway on the alpine mountain sides, as the evergreens slightly bend
Unto mother natures will, hush now and listen to the weeping willow’s cry,
For winters chill lies in the late mid-afternoons approaching air, the horizons
Portrait of seasonal change is a wonderment to behold, in silences frozen stance
Of exceptional beauty.

Near the streams watery edge, the reeds whisper the night’s song of opulence,
 Spreading through the tall grasses left untamed and untrampled by mankind,
For here the wilderness experience is freedom’s rambling call, and nature is
At her greatest beauty that is of the wild and born free!

Floating leavenings of summer ride upon rippling rapids tide, 
As the foaming spray collides against the rocky shoreline, 
Seemingly limbless tiny multicolored ships sailing on this mountainous river
 Ocean, are these autumn leaves cast freely from there earth bound
Mothers, whom roots lie deeply planted within generations of topsoil!

The chattering of scampering squirrels collecting the last of their
Wintery nuts storehouse echo throughout the forest, as the rams
Climb the vast dividal steps, ever upwards towards the high mountain glens.
Below the mighty wolf packs hunt, howling within the dark hollowed
Timbers, in this wild country called America!

In the native camping grounds the human tribes gather together,
Thanking mother earth for the bounty of a good summers hunting,
And for their safe passages travel, these are the sacred people of this land.
Behold in blessings graduated, the splendor of celebrations dancing, amongst 
The fires side feasting, as the embers of tradition float high upwards,
Towards their great fathers eternal flame!

In the trappers cabin family’s settle, as the bubbling kettle tops to the
Boiling whistle, soon the feasting shall begin to thank the lord almighty,
That all whom dwell within are well and healthy, and are gather together
Once more, in this pioneering country beneath the Blue Ridge Mountains,
Of God’s magnificent canvas of wild beauty! 

At twilight’s ease of dusk the autumn leaves do flutter in the
Evening breeze, trickling downwards across inspirations canvas,
Creating a multicolored cascade at sunset, a leafy rainbow clasping
From the tree tops heights, than blowing wildly astray on the breathe
Of the winds!





Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Tail-rhyme |
 The Santa Ana's are here, and the moon is clear. 
There is a mystic in the air that whispers in my ear.
  Is this a peaceful feeling or does it carry fear ? 

What is the passion and hot fragrence of orange blossom that is pulling me a different way , as if this power has been sent only by a Witch of the finest of White Magic, only to calm the Blue Soul I have known my whole life.

 I feel a passion that is running through my Veins like the  power of water itself .
As if the Moon itself were instructed to warm the air that is blowing . It is not a new moon , it is not a old moon , it is a moon that appears only in ones lifetime to gaze at .

 By seeing and feeling the very power of this Moon you will dance your way to Heaven with happiness of what is yet to come.
The Stars around this Moon are unique as if they take the presence of every loved one you and I have lost . 

The Witches winds with the warm glowing of the moon, as if I had never met you before , are blowing with the frangerence of Orange Blossom or Magnolia , from a distant past of The South.
As if I know we have been together once before , a Moon such as this . In a peaceful , lustful state of Bliss.

 There is something coming .. is it something I have always known or wanted ?

 What is yet to be known is as intoxicating as the Santa anas that are running through my body.
 As if i have been struck by the power of light , as the powerful moon I gaze at in the Night.
It is piercing my soul with it's only Truth, 
                                            Shanity Rain 

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
Blinded by the lights;
But in a rainbow of the night,
A lone star
Shines just as bright.

With the rise of the muffled cries
 Of joyous pride,
A priceless moment captured in time.
As I stand within a crowd,
A memory is to last a lifetime.

With inpatient feet,
As the heart starts to beat,
No thought was conceived 
To what could be.

But here we stand,
Listening to the music from the band.
The ground starts to rumble,
For there was no fumble.

While at the end,
And all smiles aglow,
I look toward you,
 That gleaming star,
For that shimmering Hope you Bestowed on us,
And say, Thank you.

Copyright © Halie Doland | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
The Pirates Of Great Pacific
On the day that followed their departing
When they were forced to be aliens of the great deep
Wandered back and forth with nowhere to dwell
Hunger had caused them to astray to the world of the unknown
They chose to leave and be free of humans sneer
Life was tough, and marine came to their rescue
That there was no disposable bin for a child of man
They sail in rough seas even at night
Every current of life against them, fighting for survival
Against wind and stuffs that proved impatient for the child of man
In the world of unknown, the world of deep waters
They did not know that down will find them,
Still clinging in that breath of life
With no home to turn to, they had to make pacific theirs
 And learn to sail against the storms and escape the jaws of great white
It was a life of terrible gamble to invade the world of underneath
They flip the coin with hope that destiny will guide them
While they wonder in that blue print of life
To them it was clear 
that life is like Great Pacific

Copyright © Khayelihle Bhengu | Year Posted 2014

Details | Imagism |
A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex

Copyright © Gokul Alex | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quintain (English) |
Autumn Colors (Death So Bold)

Resting upon cold , hard ground
leaves depleted Autumn's gold 
Solid vapors soon are found
in rested spirits of old
colors so bright, death so bold


English Quintain  Rhyme Scheme a. b. a. b. b. 
No specified measure 

Note:  Not required but given as reference only...
Syllables Per Line:  7 7 7 7 7  
Total # Syllables:  35  
Total # Lines:  5

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Blank verse |
As morn braces against the emptiness of night
And cock crows echo in waves of yellow light

Fallen mixed colors brush along the coarseness’ of stone
As fall would have them, these leaves of gold

Age as time moving swiftly through coveted hope
Laid far along twisted roads, yearning there and then
to be not parted here, have alas a distance near

But what of it, who so best to have it, more!

I tire now on thinking further, 
and would love to simply settle
On piles of leaves bright along the way
To answer no more
to things that must stay

‘Cause with any wisdom here,
I would have experienced it there
On piles of leaves I will stay, and rest a time 
before another day

And should it be the last of things, then so be it,
for I would have had 
what it was before its last,
and what more can I ask -
to take on roads we can not stand

Copyright © abel olivencia | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
In autumn the trees
were shedding their leaves

i was sitting in the light
watching the lovely sight.

i felt the moving breeze
which indeed made me please

there i was- among the rocks
my feet didn't wear any shoes nor any socks;

i looked at my clothes;all dirty and torn
this was what i had months ago worn,

i was still the same
without a name

even the autumn was same
but every time it came

it re freshened my soul and made me glad
and forget all the things that made me sad

true, most of the rich are luxuriated and pleasured in jeweled lump
but the pleasure obtained by the mesmerizing nature's beauty lies within the reach of some...

Copyright © Husna Mirza | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |
 The Farming couple 

The farmer and his wife 
is harvesting almond
 a net around the tree and 
a long stick 
she picks up the nuts and puts 
them in a bag.
She is not wearing gloves and 
her hands are that of 
an old salt.
they  go home for lunch 
home- made bread and cheese
she does the washing up
while he snooze a little  
in the autumnal sun.

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Trees shed

Their Autumn Leaves.


Autumn Leaves-

That fall,

That twirl

And then embrace the ground.


Autumn Leaves-

That flood

The pathways I tread

And the horizon I see.


Amidst them, I halt

Amongst them, I sit,

Stare and admire

Them as they shower from trees.


I listen to them,

As they rustle,

And cuddle

In the soothing autumn breeze.


Wondrous it is to listen

To the tales they tell,

Tales spelled in their toungless accents

Tales that are the soul of each of those

Falling, twirling, rustling

Autumn Leaves.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
His fingers left blood on the strings 

but, come time to walk away he hadn’t really learned anything.

Course and dried brushes sit atop the rubbish,

His mind held a perfection too delicate for his clumsy hands to create.

He opened his mouth to sing like a jay but, instead of notes it was rust that fell out. Part of the wear and tear of early adulthood.

But then, this same boy picked up a pen and found some paper. The pen in his hand felt as natural his own bones and he began to write.

He wrote every tear

He scribed every star

He built towers from mountains with every line

High enough that the angel’s just might hear them.

He made pages for chapters of his life that could make those seraphim weep sapphire tears.

He could write the wind blowing across the nape of your neck in Autumn

And make you feel the chill on your skin.

He could articulate the sad beauty of a lover’s quarrel that ends in tears

If they cry, it makes it all more real.

He documents the history of a war inside himself that will never end.

The loss and the gain,

But not those of monetary nature.

When life begins to scream around him

All he must do to silence it is to put it in a stanza.

The boy’s tongue can pave the way for good intentions, and we all know those can fall South. He finds strength. And with this Strength a power.

Finally the boy knew his gift. But how is he meant to use it and who will truly listen to the personal strands of his soul he ties together with punctuation?

And now that he has tasted the pleasure of his power, will that be enough?

Copyright © Alexander Schwartz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Monorhyme |
This poem is dry/ 
Free from liquid tongues/
It cries out loud as the misty words blown reflects winter/ 
Hearts cold / 
This poem is mine/ 
Re-read it after a while/ 
The message turns warmer in time/
You are told/
It carries old expressive survivors who died in the future/ 
Marry words that lose leaves but surviving the bitter cold season/ 
Words that bought blankets for them lyrical branches/ 
This poem is sweet/
Dry poems have rights to be pleased/ 
This poem is sweet/
Rhymes shelter on the sentence's rooftop before engagement parties/ 
Rhyming sessions/
Cut and paste scissors blur the vision/
Not true expression/
Bees group hug in mud of resurrected angels to echo this poem/ 
Echo this poem/
Spread the word in this cold world/
We will all get warm/

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
A renewal of the space,
Of gravity, time, allowance,
New creations, new life.
Revival spread through the lands and the hearts.
This is our father’s creation,
The beauty, mind boggling.
The air fresh, crisp, sweet,
The beginning, the end,
New paths, new walks.
Roads . . . they end.
They wind.
Animals, people, 
All things breathing.

Copyright © jody mckinnon | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
I'm thankful, for the dew resting on the mountain tops and the deep rivers of the valleys.

I'm thankful, for you putting the trees in place and for the birds that nest there.

Thank you Lord, for the changing of seasons and for the way clouds represent this.

Thank you Lord, that when i stop and wonder along the way. I become more thankful for all 
you have created and the overwhelming beauty of it all.

Copyright © sarah huburn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
These magic beans come from a place 
on the other side of the rainbow
Some are good some are bad 

Red of course it the power to make someone fall in love with you
Blue has the power to take all your sadness anyway
Black has the power to take fear away and make you brave 

These are not the kind you eat
You put it in a drink make a wish 
Wait for the sparkle and it may come true 
The rule book saids to be careful what you wish for 
The most special bean is the mystery favor 
What is does for you is always a secret

Copyright © Dina Platt | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku |
Leaves falling feels like                                                  
life around you is changing                                           
for the good or bad                                                         

Copyright © Christian Childs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cinquain |
Amber, blustery
Rustling, wilting, foraging
Golden leaves lay scattered 

Copyright © Susan Johnson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Rhyme |
As the Summer Sun
Is fading 
The Autumn frost
Spent three months waiting
To come and put
All those to sleep
Cherished children
I could not keep

Now the deed is
Duly done
The willows weep
With leaves, they'll shun
The summer greens
Have turned to grey
Thus winters wind
Is on it's way

Snowy blanket or,
Shroud of death
The piecing chill of
Winter's breath
I stand impatient 
"Till it be done
And see once more
When Spring 
Has Sprung

And in that day
When Sun is new
And does the job
It's destine too
My children will
All rise again
Until this cycle
Once more, begins

Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Nerves in a jar, my life is a mess
I hurt form this world as my poem suggests
Cut from a rose that smells no more
Healing like a dove thats flown shore to shore
What became of our love thats anybodys guess
We forgot about thinking, now about what comes next

Some of the times I will remember more I will forget
It hurts today tommorrow I will give it my best
My head becomes heavy my mind becomes my nest
What to do with all of the love I have here hidden in my vest
Come to my sences my heart in my hand
I think about all of the things that I can
My now today I understand
I can will you the love to better comprehend
From here I wish you the world
The universe a best
Untill you are willing 
The person beside me is only a guest

Copyright © Courtney Courtney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
(another humanity) 

let us withdraw 
and sojourn in Nature
from this world 
of labor and knowledge:
physical labor 
destroys us
if we live to eat
spoils us
if we fail to live 
by what we know— 

Nature redeems us!

like Halloween night children 
let us tickle death 
under the armpit
and laugh close to Nature 
let us trick 
the gods and goddesses 
play hide and seek
fugitive to Nature:
for if we are ready or not 
there “It” is coming! 

let us sit
by the river of Life
the meandering water  
the crawling snake
the creeping vine
the sleeping rock
the roaring thunder 
on the edge of the horizon
the flashing lightning 
behind the mountain 
and see eternity 
in the grain of sand

let us come home
on the hilltop
and see
the coming shadow 
of eaglet  
soaring at a distance 
the consuming beauty 
of Being 
that rises from the Earth

let us warm our cold
gross nonhumanness 
feel the madness 
battled within us
seen outside 

let us return to the source
and pause and peep
through this window of the soul
to the unbounded expanse 
beyond itself 

beyond this humanity
across the burial mounds 
of dead dynasties 
dead empires 
dead democrats
dead dictators
dead communists 
dead fascists 

near the shrines 
of the living gods 
and goddesses 

Copyright © Assefa Dibaba | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
My heart 
is my alphabet,
beating the letters out
through the pores of my skin.

I gather them
in my hands.

I mold the words.

And they pour down on the sheets,
like eager autumn rain.

© Gry W Christensen

Copyright © Gry Christensen | Year Posted 2014

Details | ABC |
Deer running through the forest,
As graceful as can be,
Her white tail in the air,
Saying "I know you're there",
As majestic as this beast could be,
It will be in great agony,
For the motorized beast has caught it.

Copyright © Glenn Tilton | Year Posted 2014