Short Loveautumn Poems
Short Loveautumn Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Loveautumn by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Loveautumn by length and keyword.
Fallen leaves, naked trees, cool air is all around.
A gentle breeze blowing leaves.
She came and went like autumn in a small town.
Like the winter trees
Left stripped bare
By the autumn gales
Such is our marriage
Our love was once that leafy canopy
Which sheltered and nurtured
But it slowly change in hue
Then it dried up and blew away
On the winds of change
Until our love was no more
Form:
I need space
Space to let my ideas run freeely
Forbidden am i to let my feet slide amongst the wet gravel
Forbidden to let the rain run gently through the cracks of my fingers
..How id love to watch the autumn leaves fall upon the dew stained grass
I need space
Space to live..space to love
..love you
Autumn
Rich in colour
Just like leaves
Hearts, fall
Upon golden
There lay my heart
As fragile as an Autumn leaf
I held it in my hand
Kissed it gently
Held it close
Never apart
I thought of you
Everyday
Like Autumn
And its colour play
Upon golden
My heart did belong
With you
In Autumn colours
That showed
Rich and true
When autumn chilled the maple
And turned the ginko leaves to gold
Strolling by creek water ripples
I my love to hubby told
The provider who's not gifted
At tender loving charms
Wrapped his arms around me
In gratitude that was warm
Once he picked me wild flowers
A bucket full I'd say
Just to show his appreciation
For loving him always
Form:
Your love is like
An Autumn day.
You make love clear
And not so grey.
You open up
With willing arms.
Protecting me
From all harm.
You complete
My everyday.
Forever in
You arms I'll lay.
Making hopes
And dreams come true.
All I need
In life is you.
I hope you know
You complete.
The other half
Of all of me.
©2009 ~FR34K0N4L345H33
I write –
on autumn leaves,
when the sun is
alive
The grass
is still
fragrant.
And you are a dream which
I won’t
tell about.
My eyes are collecting colorful rains.
As in the mad years,
when
I ran with a cloth
to bandage the light.
The wings have left
and the golden sparkles which
you are writing with today,
without even knowing…
A shed
feather of Fudjiama.
Was a long time coming
so many fruitless trees,
an autumn forest,
laid naked of it's leaves.
A hint of sunshine
but eaten by the clouds,
the clouds that so quickly
cover like a shroud.
The damndest thing
a fool believes
that love comes easy,
it always does in dreams.
Was a long time coming
but the taste of love sublime
a feast set before me,
forever will I dine.
An Autumn Day along the Bay
I dream about a special place
Where you and I are one
We walk beneath the autumn trees
Below the setting sun
Side by side and hand in hand
We walk along the bay
I turn and look into your eyes
And then I hear you say
Our love will last forever
But here I want to stay
Don't worry about tomorrow
Let us just enjoy today
By: Jeremy Siedlecki
Butterflies dance in Autumn rain
they see only colors
and know not hidden pain-
Revered tears sayeth the sea
moonlit lace of what you were to me
time is shadowed
encased in fear
but born again when you are near-
Oceans demure that ravage the heart
where sand and sea
doth never to part-
One as the river
that sings to the wind
touched by ones heart
that freedom did send-
a sweet september, flowing tenderly over my wounds,
adorns my soul with golden scintillations
of silence accepted as a token of good-bye…
the necklace made from devil’s fangs
now lays unworn in some corner of my heart,
still throwing from time to time upon my nights
the shadow of a once beloved grin…
make no mistake though, reader…
i am not a believer now…
i’m just waiting on the autumn equinox’s cross
for my resurrection…
In a while,
in a second
and rain is pouring down.
One expectation like an Alpine horn
and you hardly,
hardly
are alive.
With your little hollows you're listening
to the Labyrinth.
And I have no knowledge.
And I have no map.
But the long movement of moss on the skin
of obelisks.
The calm waters are unleashing into me
and the chestnuts are putting white candles on
(and the autumn is a palm).
Wings, raising
upwards and
upwards...
I'm calling you by name.
Seattle summertime is all
Forgotten, in an ugly fall
Of fog, and ever-soaking rain
That hammers heavy down
Upon a woman’s window-pane,
As I am leaving town.
Her only souvenirs are some
Of my romantic poems from
Illusions of an August love,
That left her out of breath—
Before her artist-image of
Me died an autumn death.
October teaches her that I
Had my ambitions up too high,
Imagining I’d ever be
Remembered by a book.
But all of her was offered free
For taking, so I took.