September Poems | Examples of September Poetry

“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...

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Summer is a time of wanderlust and fun with long days and warm nights A season to enjoy the outdoors as we cultivate our many gardens of life The days are now getting shorter as nature slowly starts to rest into slumber Hummingbirds take their last sip of nectar before their fall departure Leaves start to transform from...

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Half past summer, two months till fall, boredom, bullies; teacher neglect. sandcastles, encase, be my pall! Half past summer, two months till fall. when school bells toll, tenderfoots bawl— sun's embrace, we'd warmly collect. Half past summer, two months till fall, blackboards, bullies; teacher regret....

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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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The sleepy begonias undulating slightly so undisturbed leaned forward to encourage and wish me good fortune, while the apricot trees spread around their strong aroma, a dazzling daylight was rising from the majestic mount; a soft voice rose from the next room, it was mamma calling me: I sprung from my bed in disorder without feeling grumpy, the alarm playing Mozart's...

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this world, connected by signals cell phones, towers impregnated by vibrations mild colors, flames rising from the hopes hues stolen by the edges of a heart, who hears the wind in the trees, the struggle the need of raindrops, poignant stroking the last of the moments before Helene spoke her war with creation a war that left time off its foundation –...

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summer of my youth colourful as i remember it was when i did my growing up i'd spread my wings and sow my freedom while i could because september would always come around too fast AP: Honorable Mention 2025 ...

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Lone, tall, verdant wobbling leaf Strong autumn gales come Immovable, unbending...

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I thought to order Nature, yet it rained that picnic day: apparently her sun, did not listen, had she even bothered to ask, my wonder? I thought to order Nature -- in retrospect, a Saturday blunder. I thought to order Nature -- fondest of autumn now my late fall -- bright patterns, so enlivening! Speckled flora, like my own somewhat disheartening, though...

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"Written" There is a rhythm to us, a quiet knowing in the spaces between. Not hurried, not forced just the gentle pull of something timeless, written long before we knew. Your warmth lingers in my days, a soft light in the places I keep hidden. I do not chase it, ...

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White roses stand in subtle elegance, A light breeze stirs awe of tasteful fragrance. A marriage under a spreading old tree On a grassy lawn, edged with trellis-free Ambiance kiss of fallen amber leaves, A continuous aesthetic spins and weaves....

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Its September Where is your rain muse ? weve got our Autumn here I'm drawing a line on Summer past like some bedraggled dragon its chore has commenced The buddleia is slightly drawn and the red roses have died down The Fern tree is re-splendid in its promise potted under my Robina There's spinach and broad beans for spring ...

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flashed autumn’s trees, the limbs gray leaves crunching quietly, like a feeling being crushed, crumpled lost dreams who compel me to see the grief the nostalgia – graceful as a still light falling, aching, engraving hope into the heart, hesitating so I know the music of a thought who hears joy flowing on the echoes grieving for the past, where love could last but never, on...

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The crack of a twig..' Some snickers, there's natter.' Double cream underJam with seeds; just homely feeds.' A duck on a piano, under willow fronds in Devon; England.'...

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Its September Where is your rain muse ? weve got our Autumn I'm drawing a line on Summer past like some bedraggled piston its chore has gone The buddleia is slightly drawn and the red roses have died down The Fern tree is re-splendid in its promise potted under my Robina and weve got our spinach to grow for spring...

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