Nature Seasons Poems - Poems about Nature Seasons

Raindrops on Roses

in the square, light encircled
choristers of yule
who incanted charmingly
as the dew sank cool
on their rouge berets,
cardinal cloaks with green socks—
a cordant bouquet

Thrill of Late Summer

The noon heat no longer burns like dog days,
Storms now caress the leaves with care and grace,
The roughness of summer night kept at bay,
'Stead calmness, peace and comfort take their place.

The air is hazy, lazy, filled with fun,
Awaiting the chill and darkness of fall,
Now missing kisses of mid-summer's sun,
And cricket's early morning rasping call.

The sky

Crape Myrtles in August

The bark peels back like old skin—
Mine, yours, the cinnamon scrolls
Of what we shed to live. August
Bleaches the world to bone, the bark’s faint spice
Rising in the noon glare,
Heat tasting of salt and sand. And still this Crape crowns
Itself with Myrtle fire. Still—

I cannot explain what breaks in me. Still I press my cheek
Against its

Autumn Is Near

Contest : Seasons Now And After
Sponsored by : Nette Onclaud
Date : August 10, 2025


Trails of rain fade at the fringe of summer,
supple northern breeze whispers on its way.
Strands of silver clouds slowly sail away, 
graze the ash of end-summer’s smoky sky. 
Sunburst horizon spreads gossamer drape, 
tepid spectrum emits from slant sunrays. 
Birds bathe in

mountain shadows moon

mauve mountain shadows
creep across verdant valley ~
	purple moon rises

(August Full Moon – Tlingit people of the Pacific Northwest)

Monarchs

Monarchs, monarchs
in the milkweed,
flitting around
along with bees.

Drinking nectar,
drifting along,
until cold months,
then they’ll be gone.

Brilliant orange,
streaked through with black,
regal flyers,
their name is apt.

Dropping their eggs,
small, larval seed,
on plants in which
they’re young can feed.

See so many
this time of year,
zipping around
rabbits and deer.

Monarchs, monarchs,
thing all their own,
come back next month,
they’ll all have flown.

Interlude

“In the fall, I believe again in poetry...”
— Jaakko A. Ahokas

When September comes through heated breezes,
sunflowers watch droll dragonflies duet
to tunes of melodic taunts and teases
of Autumn's promise to pay Summer's debt.
A bright season greets us without regret.
Behind is buried under yesterday
and tomorrow is waiting for its say.
Joyful is this moment in Nature's arms
when time

Half Past Summer, Two Months Till Fall

Twigs and dried leaves talk timeless tales cuddling together.
Parrot pandemonium camouflage under fading flowers
I've witnessed seasonal cycles. Is the deep calling me?

Half Past Summer, Two Months Till Fall

less sun, more moon as night time grows
seasons change as all things must
where did time go? Heaven knows
the stars give signs, much to tell us
be still, as nature all around us flows

Southern heat wave blues

It’s ninety one but feels like more,
Like I opened up the Devil’s front door.
He said “Come on in!” with a fire breath grin
Now I’m sweatin' places I ain’t ever been.

The sidewalk’s cookin’ eggs on the sly,
Birds stopped chirpin', too hot to fly.
Even my dog gave me that judgmental look,
Like, “Take me out again and you’re

A Seasonal Affair

A frigid spell of arctic air 
adorns the tranquil western scene; 
a stunning glimpse of fall’s affair 
with spring’s vivacious flower queen. 

When autumn’s cooling wind combines 
with April's warming playful breeze, 
a whirling tempest paints designs 
on grounds of winter’s icy freeze. 

On sculptured hills of milky snows 
October's tepid finger strolls, 
and May's

- Haiku X 366 - summertime -

                                   in nature's splendour
                 

IN LIFE'S GODLY SEASONS

IN LIFE’S GODLY SEASONS  

Death need not be feared;
It’s in the nature of life:
Seasons come and go:-

Seek a saintly life,
From your spring to your autumn:
Soaring in God’s grace:-

In God’s sown love,
Be a reaper of his grace:
Saintly ascending:-

Hiku: summer is ending

s*u*m*m*e*r   is   e—n—d—i—n—g
f*l*o*w*e*r*s now                 w along paths~
                            

Failte

I can feel it,
smell it fragrant on the breeze
watch it in the leaves of broadleaf trees that bend to give me shade
taste it sweet upon my waiting lips
a kiss that comes to me 
through every flower and bird and labouring bee,
not in gentle honeyed sips but fresh as new picked mint 
every morning clear as

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