Best Song Autumn Poems
I awaken to a lark’s song
In early morning’s misty light
Spy it on a branch, softly shaking
In the gentle breeze, its fewer leaves
Turned yellow gold
Surround her so pretty,
Her song to me. Yes, I know
the lark sings to me
Its cheery new day song,
As if there were no tomorrow –
It whistles in the evening
as if there were no
Yesterdays. Soon it is joined
By another, oh! What a lark!
What a pair they make!
I remember those same two larks
Not far in the past –
Last Spring, they stood together proudly
Day after day and through the summer; he
Could go nowhere without her.
He, was the one who sang to her
Each new morning, the one
Who courted her till each sundown,
Up to twilight when she fell asleep.
He was the one she couldn’t do without,
The one she could love forever, together
They had built the nest for their offspring
Now grown,
Now gone.
They’d been inseparable from day one,
Even bickering, just two souls
Disagreeing - still, he sang
To her in the morning, sang to her
Under the setting sun, and
In the autumn of their life
They sang together, cheery
As if there were no tomorrow
Whistling, as if there were no yesterday.
This morning
I let out a sigh
Remembering so well
The dream I once held
So tight.
Will it come to pass?
The answer came
From the larks song each morning,
Cheery, as if there were no tomorrow.
Whistle in the evening,
As if there were no yesterday,
And I sing each day
With faith.
I whistle each evening
To not let the sun go down
On the morose, My love,
I will not let you down.
CarolineCecile - 10.12.12
(4 before start)
The sun descends as the
SWELLS RISE
Counting every coward as he passes by
You could take the place
Of the emerald lights
In the southern cities
Where the castles bloom
After a weathered trace
Of gold and two's
June bugs and fireflies
Are tearing up the autumn skies
"goodbye...GOODBYE!"
Kingdoms,
They all fall down
Where you're standing makes all the difference
(ALL THE DIFFERENCE NOW!)
Take my tongue and take my scarf
The STORM IS COMING IN!
Take my aim and take cover
This tempo is set for
SELF-DESTRUCTION
This is a song by Rascal Flatts that I have requested to
be played at my funeral in the very near future.
It must have been in a place so dark,you couldn't see the light,
reaching for you through that stormy cloud.Now here we are gathered
in our little home town,this can't be the way you meant to draw a crowd.
(chorus) Oh why,that's what I keep asking,was there anything I could have
said or done.Oh I had no clue you were masking,a troubled soul,
GOD only knows,what went wrong,and why you would leave the
stage in the middle of a song.
Now in my mind I keep you frozen as a seventeen year old,rounding third
to score the winning run.You always played with passion no matter what
the game,when you took the stage you shinned just like the sun.
(CHORUS)
Now the oak trees are swaying in the early autumn breeze,a bolt of sun is
shinning on my face.The tangled thoughts I hear,a mockingbird sings,this
world really ain't that bad a place.
Oh why,there's no comprehending,but who am I to try to judge
or explain.Oh but I do have one burning question?Who told you
life,wasn't worth the fight,they were wrong,they lied,now your
gone,and we cried,cause it's not like you to walk away in the
middle of a song.Your beautiful song.
Song by Rascal Flatts
Again, Autumn leaves us.
Somebody shouts «Trouble, Misfortune!»
We shall not accuse the wind
which has torn off all leaves.
Autumn goes away imperceptibly,
like the wife who
no longer likes her marriage.
She only will smile nodding affably,
And from rain, as from fruit of the vine,
we are already drunk.
Leaves fly from trees like birds.
We want to sing and love.
We take a shawl as protection
from a laughing blizzard
and put it on the frozen linden tree.
Mellow Autumn ! Golden Autumn !
I am greeting you with leaves fall,
Saying "Goodbye !" with a crane's song,
And, as usual, waiting for a winter
By missing you...
The yellow leaves are turning above our heads,
Reminding us of the past.
Who are you in love with ?
Who is your friend ?
You tell me only that.
Fly into my window as a little cloud
To be dissolved in silence.
And do not look for a reason
To become my guest.
Rustle ! Rustle ! Rustle ! Mellow, Golden Autumn.
You are so beautiful, Reddish Maiden Nude !
Don't be sad, Dear, because winter is so close,
The falling leaves will capture my memories about you...
I will catch the last sunny ray
And detain it for a moment.
I will drink you up, so juicy, to the very bottom,
As a tincture of happiness and love.
You know, the fall weddings are always happy
And last long, just believe me.
I will wait for a winter
But my door will be open for you
The entire year...
The birches and the lindens –
in hair have fire.
On the road is noise –
The white horse runs.
Autumn, as a sorrow,
has spread everywhere.
Where, from whom
do you hasten,
my Prince with the gray eyes?
Night has lowered its black velvet downwards,
Month ate stars –
And has bitten own language.
Hi, Prince!
Stop your horse, please,
And take me with you!
We shall rush off very far
And we shall sing songs of joy
instead of our grief.
We shall rush off together with a wind,
And our eyes will be laughing again!..
But already, Morning came back,
and my Prince is not near me any more
Only again, there is Admiralty,
The magnificent Hermitage near Neva,
the yellow leaves on the water
and shout of machines and trams in autumn St. Petersburg.
An Autumnal Moment
The autumn light has faded it is night now,
Heat lingers, melts the ice in my whisky.
This is the best time of the day and I will
Not think of tomorrow’s day.
The terrace is full of fallen flowers and
Only slowly they will blow away.
All traces of summer will be gone and
What’s left is a vague memory.
That once upon a time there was a spring,
Summer and endless joys of youth.
But I shall sleep easily in my bed as long as
I feel the good warmth of my lover.
And I will think how lucky I’m and hope
I will slip into the deepest sleep before her.
Did the world truly exist-
Before we loved?
With Mutual delights,
Shining splendor,
And dreams select;
An autumn day you appeared
As my falling star searing brightly
Across the black midnight sky,
Where all my wishes were;
Say you love me,
If only for this day,
And if I whisper back, “I love you”,
Will you consider to forever stay?
Your loveliness a stronghold,
While I trace your loving warmth -
My arms gather your body’s form,
My heart knows no other yesterday,
While in our tenderness we lay.
No masks to wear,
No games to play,
I vow my love for you
Never to betray,
The fruit of my honor
I give to thee, and only thee.
I’ll long for you forever,
I pray your love grows
Designed merely for me,
And every day I await your love-
This you will eternally see.
The autumn has come from fogs.
She lowered on a white cloud,
but has waved a scarf of red.
The flock of cranes flew up and away.
Autumn smiled.
The forests sparkle with gold,
Autumn rocked her shoulders,
And leaves scattered with a crunch
Along the ground - gold carpets!
Above a pulsating arrow of two great Russian rivers,
there, where Oka merges to Volga
and already flows farther downstream,
to the Caspian sea,
an ancient, wise Kremlin stands – like a soldier
on high coast of the big ancient city of the Russia, Nizhni Novgorod.
Kremlin looks very attentively at boundless meadows
and at cultivated fields and forests,
the small villages and big cities
of the Nizhniy Novgorod territory.
The white ships float past,
They salute the old soldier and ask its blessing.
Birches and mountain ashes, wild cherries and apples
in springtime decorate this coast with fresh greenery and flowers,
In the autumn – with gold of leaves and with red fruits.
The ancient Kremlin looks far and never sleeps.
It observes all around and welcomes the ships,
recollects the events, the dates, people.
Maybe, sometime Kremlin will recollect me also,
Because I was born in ancient Nizhniy Novgorod,
on the high coast of these two great Russian rivers.
Along the forest roads we hastened behind a wind,
We searched for good luck among meadow flowers,
And the simple words which someone said casually
we took as truth, and we prayed about them.
We were not afraid of storms, but afraid of rest,
We danced and sang before a noisy crowd,
We waited for a meeting with unearthly love,
And the hope for us was by a guiding star.
Soon the last of autumn will burn down,
All winds have become angry, and flowers have faded.
The destiny has deceived us, has not even taken by the sailors,
That is why all ships float away without us.
If at night you go near the old park,
You will see strange lilac light.
We in our circus burn candles ends
of the unreal, but desirable years.
Do not shout, please! It is unnecessary publicity.
Look at the window covered with mosses.
There is a haven here for everyone who had fiasco and came to grief:
a stage, a shabby curtain, the screen for cinema.
Jesters! Beat your tambourines! Poets! Sing your songs!
Acrobats, leap about and show your skill and talent!
The spectator promises us, the summer will return,
And the meadow flowers will blossom again!
How early the summer has disappeared!
Maybe blizzards stole it?
Trees wave branches desperately,
hoping to recapture summer.
How sad the ancient lantern is!
Maybe, it has recollected mild evenings?
The drunk wind gave a hug to the birch
and filled two more glasses with vodka.
How soon the bright sky has faded !
It has grown dull and grey,
because kisses by the sun are missing.
But, despite the autumn cool,
the birch under my window
continues to smile at both the wind, and rain.
Ah, how I have tired of myself!
I am the white crow plus 33 misfortunes!
The dark blots are in my destiny.
Hope and Belief do not want to communicate with me.
They have become tired.
I do not condemn them – they have clients
who are more successful, who hear them easily.
But I have remained alone, and I sit
on the edge of a silent grove.
How and when did I arrive here?
How did I know this road?
Perhaps, at last, the largest Trouble has regretted
what she has done to me
and has brought me here,
closer to God?
Ah, how the heavens here are affable and kind!
I feel love from trees and their friendship!
The gold and crimson forests stand up
in an autumn temple service, and I am among them.
And I – already almost same as they:
I am not failure person,
not the outsider! I am a part of earth!
I, too, am the Birch with gold hair!
I bend down my crown to the ground
and I smile again.
.
stopped the cross look
when walking out & down the steps
(humming a song within),
did a little jig to miss the cracks when
progressing along the sidewalk
(making sure as to not “break momma’s
back),
sure was in his/her better Autumn
dancing gear
(waiting for others with the energy---
full of song & love in the heart) &
there weren’t enough frowns in
the afternoon overcast that could
shed dark down upon her/his
impending afternoon delight
(now the world is said oyster if said
eater digs the oysters),
kicking her/his kicks like it’s going
out of style, ipod ringing a special
rhythm (new favorite song---connecting
him/her with everyone),
don’t need to be in front or even part of
a crowd when the selves when the
selves are getting down
(making a scene in order to be seen),
when the sun shone down &
park benches full of folks
start to come alive,
come alive, come alive,
come live, come alive!
s/he paid tribute to all the artists that
s/he adored when
s/he killed that ego in the alley on
her/his way to work,
falling in love with those dancing
with her/him, casting out those
trying to do him/her in & for a split
second (long enough to set a precedent
for a lifetime in perspective),
started to really enjoy
life.
This autumn has not wanted
to be my friend
She did not call me to attend her party
and celebrations were very much,
even very much of warming
and little light for me.
All my beautiful flowers on my balcony have faded.
But the flight of many birds is so disturbing,
And red fires of leaves blaze around.
The pain will be dissolved in bad weather,
And someone will play under my window
a solo song of guitar which is crying.
When the evening lights arrive
They will spread the stars generously
to a balcony, to the street, into an old garden.
The drunken wind will break leaves from many trees,
and a falling of leaves will begin in the city.