Autumn
Autumn it was when droop'd the sweetest flow'rs,
And rivers, swoll'n with pride, o'erlook'd the banks;
Poor grew the day of summer's golden hours,
And void of sap stood Ida's cedar-ranks.
The pleasant meadows sadly lay
In chill and cooling sweats
By rising fountains, or as they
Fear'd winter's wastfull threats.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Golden Rain
Summer gleams in heated rays,
across the shimmering plain.
Awaiting autumn's cooling breeze,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
Rows and rows of harvest lay,
a bounty's sweet repose.
Fate sealed by the reaper's hand,
when the wind of autumn blows.
Shaded with a timeless hue,
day sings sweet summer's refrain.
Awaiting autumn's cooling breeze,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
Fiery flame of sun ~ now set
upon fields of summery bliss,
below horizons pinkly lit ~
by summer's parting kiss.
How fair those days of summer now.
Its warmth will not remain.
How soon the autumn ~ will take its place,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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I Have Seen Autumn
I have never felt the chill of winter
Nor the birth of spring
Only the two faces of Nature
The golden sun shining
Or the heavens openly weeping.
But I have seen autumn
As I looked at her
No cold winter in her smile
A promise of summer in her eyes
Her hair of autumn leaves.
I have never felt autumn
But I have seen it
It’s the canvass of Rembrandt
Dark, red, crimson, gold
But I have never felt it.
Is the autumn breeze damp and soft like her lips?
Is the autumn sky naked and warm like her skin?
But I have never kissed her lips nor touched her skin
I have only seen autumn
But I have never felt it.
poem by Shogunoka Ledesma III
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Golden Autumn Day
Well I heard the bells ringing, I was thinking about winning
In this God forsaken place
When my confidence was well, then I tripped and I felt
Right flat on my face
Now Im standing erect, and I feel like coming back
And the sun is shining gold
Put a smile on my face, get back in the human race
And get on with the show
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending that its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, an a golden autumn day
In the wee midnight hour I was parking my car
In this dimly lit town,
I was attacked by two thugs, who took me for a mug
And shoved me down on the ground
And they pulled out a knife, and I fought my way up
As they scarpered from the scene
Well this is no new york street, and theres no bobby on the beat
And things aint just what they seem
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending that its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, an a golden autumn day
Who would think this could happen in a city like this
Among blakes green and pleasant hills,
And we must remember as we go through september
Among these dark satanic mills
If theres such a thing as justice I could take them out and flog them
In the nearest green field
And it might be a lesson to the bleeders of the system
In this whole society
And Im taking in the indian summer
And Im soaking it up in my mind
And Im pretending like its paradise
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day
On a golden autumn day, on a golden autumn day, golden autumn day ...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Autumn Sing
Here’s the autumn sing…
A symphony from its falling leaf…
Catching the wind from a future winter…
Rolling through a shy light…
Oh autumn shall not die in winter…
As a promise summer will surely come….
Ah autumn is a second spring…
Not all could see, all leaf is flower….
Autumn warn a terrible winter phase….
No one listen, No one will hear it…
As it is only the sound of silence….
Who can hold an indefinite sound...?
No one embrace the autumn….
As it is only a sad phase…
It gives nothing but an autumn chill….
Spring always comes with a better glory…
Oh autumn with its broken feather…
Could other season patch it up again?
No other season will devote their being….
Autumn suffers alone….
Autumns leaf keep on falling…
Spring comes cheerfully…
Summer comes strongly….
Winter always comes coldly…..
But autumn changes its face every time….
No one knows the differences….
Just the secret of the nature…
Why can’t it’d be a spring?
Why can’t it’d be summer?
Why can’t it’d be winter?
Ah autumn dance again between all the falling leaf…
It enjoys its sadness…
It embraces its pain….
As only from autumn all painter learn…
How to capture a true hidden beauty…
All speaks the same in every season….
But autumn remain different…..
For autumn is an alone singer…
Only a genuinely soul painter could witness its beauty….
That’s all the autumn need….
A silence audience....
Who can make other being see….
A glance of its beauty...
poem by Eva Clara Harahap
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Autumn Becomes Winter
Autumn is becoming Winter,
And as it does everything dies.
Autumn is a slow decay in warm colours,
And Winter is grey and absent.
Some of the redy-brown leaves sit on the trees,
Yet the cold chill sings a song
That could only be the Winter.
It is scarf weather now.
I turn my collar up against the cold and damp.
The Sun has stopped shining all day,
Now we see it for a few hours a day
And then we are entombed in darkness.
You could run to catch up with the Sun,
But you’d never make it.
Be left like ship smoke on the horizon,
Just a spot in the distance.
You cannot escape the Winter.
Autumn is becoming Winter,
And as it does everything dies.
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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You, Me & This Autumn
It was you, me & this autumn, when
I stood an onlooker, then
You & the autumn romped again.
How I relish looking on, when
This autumn showered the golden
confetti on you, then
You & the autumn romped again.
Those birds, being envious of you, when
The silver heels & golden leaves would
make saccharine songs, then
You & the autumn romped again.
In our midst, this autumn was a bosom
pal, when
None would sing the songs with us, then
You & the autumn romped again.
You & Me were dashing on the greying
path, when
The autumn was younger & even younger,
our Love, then
You & the autumn romped again.
We met in every scuffle, we had, when
This autumn stood a witness, then
You & the autumn romped again.
Our deep ties with the autumn would
never go in vain, when
On our graves the golden confetti would
shower down again, then
You & the autumn romped again (close to
my grave)
poem by Pablo Keats
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Pirouetting Autumn
The tree blushed - a rude blast of air
Betrayed a shapely bough.
My saddened heart aware
That Nature's clock was chiming,
I froze upon the twelfth
Clanging tone, caught alone,
Staring at a creaking door -
Left ajar for dancing, coloured Autumn,
Pirouetting in her leaves,
While agitated summer creatures
Backed away resignedly,
Sighing in protracted breves.
I turned; gave company;
We stood together, watching
Summer slowly blow away.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
A utumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Love's Seasons
When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine
And the summer days are in their bloom,
Then my love is deepest, oh, dearest heart of mine,
When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine.
When the winds are moaning o'er the meadows chill and gray,
And the land is dim with winter gloom,
Then for thee, my darling, love will have its way,
When the winds are moaning o'er the meadows chill and gray.
In the vernal dawning with the starting of the leaf,
In the merry-chanting time of spring,
Love steals all my senses, oh, the happy-hearted thief!
In the vernal morning with the starting of the leaf.
Always, ever always, even in the autumn drear,
When the days are sighing out their grief,
Thou art still my darling, dearest of the dear,
Always, ever always, even in the autumn drear.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Wind Chill On A Summer Day
It should be a summer's day
It was hot and shiny yesterday
It might be that
Autumn comes to the site
And with Summer it had a big fight
Summer was defeated and took flight
While on the victory side
Autumn laughs with wholehearted delight
The Autumn wind is strong
The Autumn wind is chill
It is chill
But humans bear it with a song
For they don't like the summer heat
And the air conditioning bills they paid made their feelings strong
The wind acts like an old mad witch
Soon pounds of green leaves fall to the ground
On which
A dead body of a beautiful butterfly princess is found
poem by Cathy Shao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In A Minute Autumn
an autumn isn't only
golden and yellow leaves,
heated in the summer
sweet fruits juices and honey.
an autumn, it still
a sore throat, tiring,
a fever, and influenza,
and shivers.
an autumn is waiting
for the winter
a spring
for the summer
on it
what the time will bring
what for us the fate
has in the gift
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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The Season of Change
Autumn winds gently in,
washing away Summer's sin...
Autumn winds blow free,
chasing colored leaves from every tree...
Autumn winds chill,
frosting through every valley and hill...
Autumn winds passed,
waiting for Winter's snowy blast.
poem by George Aul
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Farewell To Summer
It has begun: a few leaves are falling;
Autumn has started its gentle calling.
Summer is slowly coming to an end;
Now autumn wants to be our friend.
During autumn, we may feel a little cold,
But, in return, we've been promised gold.
Golden leaves will be found all around:
Up in the trees, and down on the ground.
Leaves of yellow, brown, orange, and fiery red,
Will form a coloured carpet to soften our tread.
We'll be presented with a whole wealth of riches,
As, from summer to autumn, the season switches.
The tall, towering trees will be set ablaze,
As traces of summer are slowly erased.
Sorely missed will be summer's long days;
Sorely missed will be summer's warm rays.
But time moves on, and the summer must go;
No doubt we'll be dazzled by autumn's show.
Autumn prefers to paint us a different scene;
It likes to wipe summer's colour palette clean.
Some say farewell to summer with a sad tear,
But, others much prefer this time of the year.
Chill September mornings may be here again,
But our memories of this summer will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Wangaratta
At the meeting of the waters
Where the dark tree shadows play
Wangaratta's sons and daughters
Dream the drowsy hours away;
Placid see the season's greeting
Winter storm and summer sun
Wed, to flow henceforth as one.
Where two northbound rivers meeting,
Long since prone to sudden dangers
When, to dim her dawning pride,
Morgan and his wild bushrangers
Thronged her pleasant countryside,
Now in her quiet graveyard resting
Lies old shame and that rash lad,
Where a mate, on tin attesting,
Pleads that 'he was not all bad.'
Crime and she are almost strangers
Now, since those ill doers died.
Bishops reign where once bushrangers
Slew her peace and shamed her pride.
And content within her waxes
In this pious atmosphere
Where naught now save threat-worn taxes
Wakens echoes of past fear.
At the meeting of the waters
Where tree shadows shift and sway,
Nothing lingers here that slaughters
Her bucolic calm away.
Done at last with Youth's adventure
Quiet lady slow to move,
And wealthier grown she lives down censure
As she drifts in one straight groove.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Autumn Song
With the advent of the Autumn
Trees behave as Nature taught 'em;
Maple, Sumach, Plum and Poplar, and the Chestnut known as Horse,
Ere they shed the Summer fashion,
Break into a perfect passion
Of sweet rivalry in color (if deciduous, of course).
Autumn comes, and Claret Ashes,
Liquidambars, showing splashes
From her palette, don the motley - Joseph's coats of many a hue:
Russet-red and golden-yellow
As the season waxes mellow.
As for me, like certain gum-trees, I perversely grow more blue.
I would quaff in ample measure
Every draught of Autumn's pleasure
Were it not a grim foreboding spreads its color thro' the mind.
And I know that Autumn breezes
Bring the first hint of the wheezes;
For, when Fall the Summer follows, Winter is not far behind.
Would I were like lucky mortals
Who, with Winter at the portals,
Shed their ills like Autumn leaves and welcome days of snow and ice.
Still, why not accept the present?
Fall brings favors amply pleasant.
Seat me - Ishoo! - id the sudlight. Autumb cad be very dice.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Few Can Resist The Autumn
Few can resist the Autumn.
And...
This season with changes upon them.
Few can resist,
The picturesqueness...
Of the Autumn.
With the color of the leaves turning bright,
To their delight.
Red and yellow with orange in sight.
From Sunrise until twilight.
Few can resist the Autumn,
When...
Autumn falls.
And...
Few can resist the Autumn,
When...
Autumn calls.
And the East Coast comes to host,
Them all...
Winter, Spring, Summer and again the Fall.
Few can resist the Autumn.
Hoping that Summer stalls.
Few can resist the Autumn.
Few can resist the Autumn.
Hoping that Summer stalls.
Few can resist the Autumn.
And the East Coast comes to host,
Them all...
Winter, Spring, Summer and again the Fall.
Few can resist,
The picturesqueness...
None at all.
Few can resist the Autumn.
Hoping that Summer stalls.
Few can resist the Autumn.
None at all.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Villanelle: Blackbird
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill,
In autumn after other birds had fled,
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
I stood and listened, savoring the thrill
And wondered why the superstitious dread
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill.
Perhaps they’d better reckoned why the shrill,
Outspoken, charcoal guardian of the dead
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
A witness of the seasons, it could fill
A tome or tomb with woe: I heard, instead,
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill.
The raven’s kin, it played the brazen shill
And, morbid incantations having plead,
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
But as I yearn to hear the robin’s trill,
I think of when, now comforted in bed,
The freakish cawing from the blackbird’s bill
Impaled the air and signaled winter’s chill.
poem by Richard St. Clair
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The Golden Year!
When piped the love-warm throstle shrill,
And all the air was laden
With scent of dew and daffodil,
I saw a youth and maiden,
Whose colour, Spring-like, came and fled,
'Mong purple copses straying,
While birchen tassels overhead
Like marriage-bells kept swaying;
Filled with that joy that lingers still,
Which Eve brought out of Aiden,-
With scent of dew and daffodil
When all the air was laden.
When primrose banks turn pale and fade,
And meads wax deep and golden,
And in lush dale and laughing glade
Summer's gay Court is holden,
Them, nestling close, again I saw,
Affianced girl and lover,
She looking up with eyes of awe
To burning gaze above her;
Playing anew the part oft played,
Sung by the poets olden,-
When primrose banks turn pale and fade,
And meads wax deep and golden.
When autumn woods began to glow,
And autumn sprays to shiver,
Once more I saw them walking slow,
By sedgy-rustling river.
The season's flush was on her cheek,
The season's sadness o'er him:
He stroked her hand, and bade her speak
Of all the love she bore him.
That only made her tears to flow,
And chill his heart to quiver,-
While autumn woods began to glow,
And autumn sprays to shiver.
When winter fields stretched stiff and stark,
And wintry winds shrilled eerie,
I saw him creep, alone, at dark,
Into the churchyard dreary.
He laid him down against the stone,
'Neath which she aye lay sleeping,
Kissed its cold face with many a moan,
Then loudly fell a-weeping:
``Oh! let me in from lonely cark,
Or come thou back, my dearie!''-
But the wintry fields stretched stiff and stark,
And the wintry winds shrilled eerie!
poem by Alfred Austin
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Crunchy Leaves Beneath my Feet
Crunchy leaves beneath my feet
Tumbling to the path
Storms blow through as autumn comes
A taste of nature’s wrath
Brilliant red, orange and yellow
Leafs that the wild wind blows
It’s nature’s way of showing us
Summer’s coming to a close
As summer turns to autumn
The crispy days revisit
A chill now in the nighttime hours
But the colors are so exquisite!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Stream Of Life
Oh silvery streamlet of the fields,
That flowest full and free!
For thee the rains of spring return,
The summer dews for thee;
And when thy latest blossoms die
In autumn's chilly showers,
The winter fountains gush for thee,
Till May brings back the flowers.
Oh Stream of Life! the violet springs
But once beside thy bed;
But one brief summer, on thy path,
The dews of heaven are shed.
Thy parent fountains shrink away,
And close their crystal veins,
And where thy glittering current flowed
The dust alone remains.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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