Summer Farewell Poems | Examples
These Summer Farewell poems are examples of Farewell poems about Summer. These are the best examples of Farewell Summer poems written by international poets.
A wealthy gal and I once fell in love
We two spent all summer on the verge of
Planning our future marriage
Just us and baby’s carriage
Come Fall, she gave me the old college shove
Summer’s End
The sun begins to set a little earlier now—
a gentle breeze brushes past my suntanned face and
I walk briskly on the sand which feels cool beneath my feet.
My pace quickens, like the prance of a Cat on the prowl.
Once home, the trees which line the street on which I live
stand majestically tall. No longer still, they begin to
sway to the music of the gentle breeze which softly touches
and fondles the leaves with a caress that only the breeze can give.
The air envelopes me, telling me it’s cooler than before—
and I run to the place that I call home,
Glad to be sheltered from something I feel in the air—
from a sky whose sun, today, will shine no more.
I pause in the house whose windows openly beckon the freshness of the crisp breeze as it quietly enters, gently pushing aside the ruffled curtains, and as it filters through the rooms—
I suddenly realize, it’s Summer’s End!
In another life, we were.
I hope you found
what you are looking for.
Is it too late?
Don’t turn around.
Here and everywhere,
I remember you.
In the summer wind,
what once was.
Sweet summer is kissing goodbye,
embracing the harvest moon nights,
summer birds bid adieu and fly,
sweet summer is kissing goodbye,
earth’s bosom heavy with a sigh,
tears of maple glow in moonlight,
sweet summer is kissing goodbye,
embracing the harvest moon nights.
You are the echo at the bottom of my Spotify playlist,
The song I forgot to delete but skip immediately,
Because it hurts too much to listen to.
You are the echo of a story not told by me,
Twisting each time it is retold,
Less true each time, less you.
You exist as an echo in my fading memories,
Vanishing, tarnishing, and shifting the more I try to hold onto them.
You are the echo of pain I feel in my gut when I hear “Eleanor Rigby”
You are a story I tell at parties.
You will always be my first everything.
You were everything.
I don’t know who I am without you,
I don’t know who you are.
I have no business feeling this pain,
But I have nothing to hold onto anymore.
Grabbing at smoke, clinging to your echo.
You are the echo on your best friend’s Instagram page,
Because I can’t look at yours and I need to still see you.
You are what I hold onto late at night when I can’t fall asleep.
You are the echo of summer days, and parking lots, and hidden corners.
You are nothing but the shadow I cling to because I can’t leave the past behind.
You are gone.
You are nothing but an echo.
Melting luck of what I am
just a burning pot on the stove,
gone too far beyond repair,
not sure if I even care,
used to stare at my past,
long gone way too fast,
like summer meets the ice,
my bones know who i am,
my brain does not know my name,
take me as far as the pain
can allow my hallucinations,
no visits by the loved ones,
just me in the bed,
with flowers already dead,
leave it to the wires and bed,
i can see now how comfort
can be art, every breath
like stolen Picasso art,
wishes to return to its maker,
from up here I can see,
through my eyes to the red sea
real story painted without the painter.
Mother, father are weeping
Because the heavens didn’t send their heart a soul
The wind, their house is breaking
And the morning is very cold
Outside they find
With the earth in the sky
That their sound is not here
Nor is it nearby
There's a train screaming angels to lower their heads
And a cold concrete block reeking of death
When no one was there
When no one was sent
A crowd turned desire
Now all has been spent
There's a stone in the morning summer air
And a clock that is ticking everywhere
A heart that is beating alone and cold
And a sound of weeping taking hold
Mother, father are weeping
Because the heavens didn’t send their heart a soul
The wind, their house is breaking
And the morning is very cold
And outside lay bones of those before
The soil is crying with them all
And the sky opens up for one last look
But looks away for it mistook
That the two were still alive.
summer winds softly
softly tear at the tissue
of sinking sunsets.
I left the old me on the South Carolina sand.
The naive, sensitive, fragile girl stayed on that land.
I signed my life away for a greater good out there.
Sacrificed what I was to become someone better.
I left that place as someone unrecognizably new.
Stronger, braver, not someone easily subdued.
South Carolina kept all that I was before.
I clawed, and carved away until that wasn’t me anymore.
If I went there a piece of clay,
I was a slab of marble when I went away.
I’ll not forget South Carolina and what I left behind,
The battles won and lost are branded inside my mind.
South Carolina, South Carolina, I still feel the sun.
Though much time has passed and those days are done.
I still think of that summer and laugh, smile, and cry.
Sometimes it feels like no time has gone by.
But I left who I was back in South Carolina,
I gave that person up the day I arrived in South Carolina.
Bronx cheers, muffled in December
‘The Boys of Summer’ have vanished
gone the way of the playground
ghosts of warmer climes
Slants of ice fill the empty stands
Cheers – or boos – reserved
for vagabonds
for drifting wads of paper
Falling Autumn leaves brashly wave goodbye to Summer
And strew the pathways with emeralds, rubies, and gold.
Radiant beauty engages the land in mummer
Encouraging Summer to relent and let loose its hold.
Watching with glum expression and immodest dress,
Eventually losing the tug-of-war with the chill cold.
Life and death become the drum to which She will bend
Leaving the breathless Wind time to nimbly mend.
Tomorrow She moves forward
Onward from time borrowed.
Sulking away with dried diamonds
Until Autumn’s auric sky explodes
Mindfully exposing Her horizons.
Memory of Summer implodes.
Efficacious efforts of Her victory,
Reign of Autumn’s golden glory.
They gather on the sandy shore-
confused and squawking as they stray.
Their former meals are seen no more;
from side to side, they look each way.
Confused and squawking as they stray
upon the rolling, barren sand;
held in dismay, they sadly stand.
Their former meals are seen no more;
the end-of-summer season came-
and nothing seems to be the same.
From side to side, they look each way.
The crowd with crumbs of food- not there.
The hungry seagulls stand and stare.
palmlike branches sway
in a late august breeze
as the afternoon sun languishes
the waiter brings my glass
of sauvignon blanc
and i feel decadent
alone at a table for four
just me and my muse
taking in the view
summer exhales its last breath
refusing to let go as of yet
while vacationers come
to accept their days are numbered
and do their best to stretch
each divine hour
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
They say it's in the wind
restless teases and taunts that seasons are in flux
an escape out of the summer's endless rush,
hush now, if you listen close
you might hear the trees as they host
a last farewell to the flow of this year;
it's a catchy phrase, barely audible
in the blend of fall color palettes applaudable
yellows, oranges, crimson reds as leaves have fled,
they hurry now, rushing into the harvests of October gusts
nature has her schedule as each season must
as spring's summer closes the account trust;
see the skies, the blues on grays
as life proceeds on, fall begins to slip away.
Salmon skies rise in the peripheral east
Steely clouds linger then slowly dissipate
Nightfall wanes, as the wide blue canvas brightens
Light lifts the mood, on a summer’s day we’ll feast
In afternoon’s heated blanket we’re caressed
Umbrella blooms shade, mint perfume they release
Skin tones burn colors from an artist’s palette,
an array of browns from bronze to tawny yeast
As mountain trails call, when monarchs migrate
As the wide blue canvas brightens, nightfall wanes
Steppin' out to engage the dusty trail beast