Leaves Poems - Poems about Leaves

Can you feel something is about to change, it is in the air everywhere you turn? Much cooler mornings and nights are coming, less sunshine each day for us to enjoy. Days getting shorter with less time to play, nights are getting longer with more darkness. Trees are turning into pretty colors, colorful leaves will soon be falling down. Squirrels working very hard...

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On a morning like this, lethargic and indifferent, It is so easy to make me rich, When the pain is moving slowly and smoothly, and I hold on to you, like a monkey, ...

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summer’s scorching heat leaves curl up burnt to a crisp the tree’s life threatened ...

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They fall from grace to grass, aged, scorched and dehydrated, fluttering away further the vanity of previous greenness and elevated times, reminding us of the fragility of life, the futility of striving to hang on when time is up....

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Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: haiku, original, sky, breath, existence, night, dark, darkness, leaf, autumn, fall, leaves, universe, beauty, loneliness, night, stars, moon should the sky fall, let my last breath praise Your existence —Michael R. Burch It ever was night, yet in the darkness I found you, shining, bright. —Michael R. Burch a last leaf clinging to life declines to fall... —Michael R. Burch the Universe, dazzled...

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Original Haiku by Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: winter, love, dream, kindness, sun, sea, leaf, leaves, autumn, spring, life, poets, words, stars, moon, war Such a frigid winter day, our words also icy —Michael R. Burch Her love, sheer and ***** as gossamer, did not adhere... —Michael R. Burch I dream of love as bankers dream of repossessing Ferraris. —Michael R. Burch The hummingbird fans an iris: myriad acts of kindness go...

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Why is Sumner such a short time? Just getting started, then running into half past summer. July seems to be the half way mark, August is almost here. August will turn into September then into October, then fall will be here. Fall with cooler days, a pretty carpet of colorful leaves covering the ground....

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nippy gust of wind toying with crisp autumn leaves vortex of a squall...

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A tree birthed in girl's heart behind the window Wherever, however, old Aspens are made — And God was in green's time, Christ coming in gold. The solo leaf that before my look just swayed — She dropped in the dark, though would her lost life grow. While at Autumn's end, I remember her shade — Tree limbs...

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I didn't call him, just as the wind doesn't ask permission to caress the rusty leaves, I sat there, crushing the day in my palms like an old parchment of forgotten memories, I let the water boil, and the shadow of the apple tree poured stories onto the tired grass, He came unannounced, like an echo from another...

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I woke this morning to the thick breath of heat, a humid Sunday rising slow as regret. The tulip tree leaves hung there, backlit like stained glass in a forgotten chapel, and beneath the sagging feeder, a ragged pile of feathers—gray, white, brown— strewn across the grass, as though something holy had been torn apart in the night. Fox, coyote, hawk— it hardly matters. Something lived, and...

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Matsuo Basho: English translations of Haiku about autumn, fall, falling, trees, leaves, leaving, goodbye, rice, moon, moonlight, words. Reverential tears: the falling leaves bid their trees goodbye. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Plates and bowls gleaming dimly in the darkness: evening coolness. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Twice the pity: beneath the headless helmet, a chirping cricket. —Matsuo Basho, translation/interpretation by Michael R....

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I watched a leaf release its breath, A golden sigh upon the air. It tumbled softly into death, A quiet dance without despair. The wind, a gentle funeral song, Caressed it with a lover’s grace. It drifted, weightless, swept along, No bitterness upon its face. I thought of all I’ve had to leave, The hands, the homes, the hollow years. I thought of how we...

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We cling to what's fallen in the lay of layers. Leaves yield to the wind, drifting down when time's up. Pages of books flip over to pile up as what's been read. Days ripped from calendars records the passage of time spent. Musical notes strike the melodies for verses on the score. Words land on pages to craft our letters, works and poems. The lay of what...

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Wizened old lady read the leaves two taunted her, a gentle tease she heard a cough and a wheeze leaves transmogrified with a sneeze door slammed shut by a hardy breeze what do they say? asked young Louise You’ll have a good life she said with ease. Old hag who raised bullfrogs and bees....

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