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No Sight Can Be More Autumnal
No sight can be more autumnal
than that of my garden
Tenanted by an autumnal person
weary of the world!
poem by Sugawara Takesue no Musume
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Sunny Afternoon
A branch rocks me in the deep blue.
In the frolicking, autumnal leaf-tangle
Moths flicker, intoxicated and crazy.
Ax blows resound in the floodplain.
My mouth bites into red berries
And light and shadows sway in the foliage.
For hours golden dust falls
Crackling in the brown ground.
The thrush laughs from the bushes
And frolicking and loudly the autumnal leaf-tangle
Strikes together above me -
Fruits detach bright and heavy.
poem by Georg Trakl
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The autumnal princess...
One step further to the winter
Two steps further to the spring
The autumnal princess danced
On the silvery feathered wind
Like a lotus flower of pearl
She coverts the sleepy world
And soothes the mirrored stars
In reflective blue stone hearts
By piecing snowdrops of pearl
The oracle amethyst of her eye
Divides a world of brittle pleasure
An autumnal garden of treasure;
That within her lips of autumns gold
-is wrought to rest the woodlands fold
And on her pallid breast that humbles not
Shall be tarried a harvest moon forgot.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Maroubra Nightwind
`
when the biting autumnal breeze
sweeps past these craggy rocks
its howling whispers - seducing;
sparing no thought of mercy
blinking lights on distant shores
pontooned my heaving heart
across the dark brewing waters
billowy clouds float by aimlessly
nonchalant in the blank staring sky
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Rashers of bacon—
sun has made an omelet
Autumnal breakfast
haiku by Mark Heathcote
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Days of Autumn
I await the chilly days of autumn.
I'm tired of summer's heat.
I anticipate the acorns popping.
I will crunch them with my feet.
I wonder at the colorful leaves
that silently fall to the ground.
I'm in love with the clear blue skies
around which my heart is wound.
Colorful mums have awakened in me
autumnal visions that will forever be
implanted in my memory.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.
quote by P.D. James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
quote by John Donne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reflecting water
Entwine memory pictures
In autumnal woods
haiku by Peter S. Quinn
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Autumn It Is
AUTUMN IT IS
Foot sinking into green carpet’s moss
Natural earthly tender cross
Autumnal soul of the forests
Lingering sounds up the crests
Open wide bird’s prison cage
Finally free it hurridly escapes
Trees foliage slowly undresses
leaves into mud get pressed
Follow the winding road
Away of hunting crowd
Listen to nature’s silence
Free of human’s guidance
Riverbed serpentine overflows
Hush hush sound of crows
Mist swallows surroundings
Swirls the breeze in bindings
Shadowy sceneries autumnal
Such a magnificent proposal
Yellow orange brown and prune
Turning into a painter’s colored tune
Autumn it is
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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The Woods Shake in an Ague-Fit
The woods shake in an ague-fit,
The mad wind rocks the pine,
From sea to sea the white gulls flit
Into the roaring brine.
The moon as if in panic grief
Darts through the clouds on high,
Blown like a wild autumnal leaf
Across the wilder sky.
The gusty rain is driving fast,
And through the rain we hear,
Above the equinoctial blast,
The thunder of the Weir.
The voices of the wind and rain
Wail echoing through my heart--
That love is ever dogged by pain
And fondest souls must part.
You made heart's summer, O my friend,
But now we bid adieu,
There will be winter without end
And tears for ever new.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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A collage of dry leaves,
autumnal hues still alive;
fresh flowers fade, wilt.
haiku by Mamta Agarwal
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Valor is abraded
Soldier of oddities, autumnal fog
aborning valor, confer to overfly
recalling his home, in misty bog
counting raindrops, of a gray sky..
Valor is abraded, functions a log,
his red diluted, in drizzle complies
Maiden of oddities, autumnal rain,
recalls his dark uniform, and rank,
he smiled departing, in dark train,
acclaiming prowess, his eyes sunk..
Rain drops fall from skies above,
adorning a smile, clouds to assay,
he stares in solitude, a courtly love,
her sweet glance, upon their quay..
Friendly raindrops. of a gray sky,
form splendid, in clouds ascends,
staring at cumulus, a mizzle nigh,
sweetly waving, amid his friends..
Honor is abraded, beckons away,
his crimson diluted, in rain amends.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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An Ode To The Detached Leaves
Ah! The blows of autumnal wind,
Cold and callous, have encroached at last,
They have made the leaves their victims.
Look! they fall like drops of rain,
Bearing no strength of their own.
They move with the gushes of wind,
Without their own consent,
They oscillate on the wings of some invisible agents,
Who possess the secret powers,
To dispose what one proposes.
I recall once they were attached hard,
To the branches and boughs of the shadowy trees;
And sap ran into their veins,
As blood runs into the human network;
And they fluttered resisting each coldhearted gust.
They were resolute to go through each ebb and flow,
Establishing firm relations to the nourishing limbs.
And Mother Nature came stealthily to give them wash,
At the moonlit nights with the drops of dew.
While they fluttered, they produced symphony,
Unknown even to the ancient master musicians;
And they whispered in mysterious sounds,
Only understood by the cuckoos or nightingales:
The singers and agents of the feral world.
Now they rustle with each move of the autumnal gusts,
Or crackle under the feet like too crispy dried petals;
And some float on the stagnant water with green surface.
Ah! 21st century is the dawn of autumnal winds,
The blows and fatal gusts have diverted the civilizations,
And they now move on the tracks of conflicts,
Human beings fall like leaves, waft along the blows,
Detaching themselves from the nourishing boughs
And shadowy branches of faith, love and tolerance.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Twenty-First Sunday After Trinity
The morning mist is cleared away,
Yet still the face of Heaven is grey,
Nor yet this autumnal breeze has stirred the grove,
Faded yet full, a paler green
Skirts soberly the tranquil scene,
The red-breast warbles round this leafy cove.
Sweet messenger of "calm decay,"
Saluting sorrow as you may,
As one still bent to find or make the best,
In thee, and in this quiet mead,
The lesson of sweet peace I read,
Rather in all to be resigned than blest.
'Tis a low chant, according well
With the soft solitary knell,
As homeward from some grave beloved we turn,
Or by some holy death-bed dear,
Most welcome to the chastened ear
Of her whom Heaven is teaching how to mourn.
O cheerful tender strain! the heart
That duly bears with you its part,
Singing so thankful to the dreary blast,
Though gone and spent its joyous prime,
And on the world's autumnal time,
'Mid withered hues and sere, its lot be cast:
That is the heart for thoughtful seer,
Watching, in trance nor dark nor clear,
Th' appalling Future as it nearer draws:
His spirit calmed the storm to meet,
Feeling the rock beneath his feet,
And tracing through the cloud th' eternal Cause.
That is the heart for watchman true
Waiting to see what GOD will do,
As o'er the Church the gathering twilight falls
No more he strains his wistful eye,
If chance the golden hours be nigh,
By youthful Hope seen beaming round her walls.
Forced from his shadowy paradise,
His thoughts to Heaven the steadier rise:
There seek his answer when the world reproves:
Contented in his darkling round,
If only he be faithful found,
When from the east the eternal morning moves.
poem by John Keble
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A Song of Autumn
My wind is turned to bitter north,
That was so soft a south before;
My sky, that shone so sunny bright,
With foggy gloom is clouded o’er
My gay green leaves are yellow-black,
Upon the dank autumnal floor;
For love, departed once, comes back
No more again, no more.
A roofless ruin lies my home,
For winds to blow and rains to pour;
One frosty night befell, and lo,
I find my summer days are o’er:
The heart bereaved, of why and how
Unknowing, knows that yet before
It had what e’en to Memory now
Returns no more, no more.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Autumn In Bright
Cast in autumnal glow
all muted colours
faded reds and burnished golds
leaves
soft as the fading light
drifting to black.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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Oh, Heart
Oh heart, oh heart, why must you beat?
Oh heart, oh heart, why must you weap?
Oh heart, oh heart, why must you hide?
Oh heart, oh heart, what lies inside?
Oh heart, oh heart, why must you cry?
Oh heart, oh heart, why do you despise?
Oh heart, oh heart, why are you weak?
Oh heart, oh heart, why can't you speak?
Oh heart, oh heart, why must you burn?
Oh heart, oh heart, why can't you learn?
Oh heart, oh heart, what went wrong?
Oh, heart, oh heart, can't you be strong?
Oh heart, oh heart, why are you blue?
Oh heart, oh heart, where are you?
poem by Whitney Albright
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Xeranthemum
Decently made and decently formed,
Embodiment of chastity and innocence,
Supports them who walk a faltering gait,
Pours out she pure sentiments of heart,
Infuses, lends savour of life to the adorers,
Negates manmade walls of caste and colour,
Adds perfume around wherever she moves.
Knows difference between just and unjust,
Obedience is the essence of her existence,
Noble, dignified in spirit, heart and mind,
Treats she brittle hearts with a caution great,
An Ardent alumna of the school of poesy,
Xeranthemum unaware of autumnal winds,
Incarnation of love: Despina Kontaxi.
(An Acrostic tribute to Despina Kontaxi by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Fragment: The Vine-Shroud
Flourishing vine, whose kindling clusters glow
Beneath the autumnal sun, none taste of thee;
For thou dost shroud a ruin, and below
The rotting bones of dead antiquity.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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