Early Falling Leaves
Autumn is not technically here
But it has arrived nonetheless
With brown crisp maple leaves and their
Imagined conspicuousness.
Each with its own conformation:
Some taking forms of tortoises
As they swirled downward in the sun;
Others twirled like ballerinas
In a sleeping beauty ballet.
Most fell unassumingly down
Nevertheless, quite a display
For a mere poet on the ground
This Sunday morning unrehearsed
Depicted in a poets verse.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Since That Is Nature's Way
By their deciduous mother tree on the grass they do lay
The brown leaves of the Autumn have gone to decay
The magpie is piping in the dawn cool and gray
And life it goes on since that is Nature's way
Like her Seasons her life forms to Nature come and go
Yet so little of her ways we can claim to know
I marvel at the wonders in Nature I see
But Nature remains as a mystery to me
The beauty in Nature is ours to enjoy
I first fell in love with her as a young boy
And though the father of time mercy for us don't show
My wonderment of her only seems to grow
The brown leaves of Autumn lay near their mother tree
And the fate that befell them is also for me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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An Autumn Burial
A small crowd stood around the grave;
my presence being one of them.
With our heads bowed downward and our
Predominant, black and white clothes
We all resembled king penguins
in the early autumn morning.
The breeze increased and blew the brown
Dead maple leaves around our feet,
some aptly onto the casket
deep within the newly dug grave.
Other than the wind, the silence
Is deafening except for an
occasional cough from the group.
The eulogy begins “Here lies ….”
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Autumn leaves
In full autumn splendour the trees display
proclaiming the glory of God each passing day.
For The Divine Artist every year paints each tree
so that each person on earth His glory can see.
And when He has finished painting each one
He brings out their colour with the blazing sun.
Then using the wind to dislodge each leaf
He forms a carpet on the ground beneath.
He has given us eyes so that we can see
His glory and majesty in every tree.
Our God like an artist uses His creation
To show us of the way to His salvation.
For as the leaf fell to the ground and died
So Christ gave His life when crucified.
His blood flowed red like autumn leaves
and cleanses all who His love receives.
Provocative
Octaves above
And below
Middle 'C'
With a soprano singing sweetly,
Caressed and assisted
By a plucking 'bass' between her knees!
Providing provocative sounds...
Below and bare,
Under beautiful red and orange leaves...
Shakened to the ground,
From an Autumn Maple tree!
To give a crisp blanket of bliss,
Falling on movements like these!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Autumn Leaves
Autumn leaves, in the trees
Falling to the ground
Colors of many, in the breeze
Of red and orange and brown.
Rainbow parks in the dark
Moonlight shimmers down
On the leaves, from the trees
Falling to the ground.
Lovers walk, hear them talk
To where Children played
See the beauty, and feel the warmth
From where nature stayed.
Barren trees, forgotten leaves
Another year gone by
All alone from a breeze
As the lovers softly cry.
Autumn leaves from the trees
Lying, on the ground
See the beauty, feel the warmth
And hear, autumns sound.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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A journey through an interminable poetic landscape
In the midst of the dense thicket
of the poet-milky wood, just beyond the gas pumps
standing as lonely as a trio of crows
waiting for a poet’s metaphor, and just beyond
where the pavement ends,
the road divided:
I took the road less travelled,
- unlike, say, a wise purveyor of ice-cream;
pausing only to think, as the evening
fell like sadness from my cigarette, that
the other road will be for me
for ever, the road I did not take
into the landscape which I did not see,
in the time that will not return;
but the road I took, led past
plum-trees, showering Spring’s wild daffodils
as with a late Spring snow, falling quietly
like the sighs of young slant-eyed girls thinking of love;
I’m glad I took that road; for later, when Autumn
with its mists and mellow plumful fruitiness,
came silently, so silently,
I took that road again; although I’m told
the other road was much the same;
but now, as the brown leaves fell and swirled,
the small, hard plums had fallen;
I took some home, put them in the ice-box;
were they juicy, cold on my morning lips?
No. They’d gone; along with the girl
I’d brought home, and the crate of beer;
just a note on the ice-box door:
‘I used to worship your poetry; now
I know that you’ve sold out… loser…’
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Autumn
(10/13/11)
The autumn leaves falling on the ground
The autumn leaves of yellow, orange and brown
The trees like a rainbow of colors
Such as this there is no other.
My friends would climb up the smallest trees
And shake the leaves down to me.
then the leaves are raked up and placed in a large pile
Children diving in and laughing all the while.
The crispy crunch that you hear
Sends the chills through your ears.
The autumn leaves reminding us
That Halloween was very near
Where we could dress up and create some fear.
But for now we would have our fun
Chasing each other with our water guns
Diving into leaves of gold and brown
Hoping that we wouldn’t be found.
The park keeper was as happy as can be
From raking the leaves he was free.
He would pick them up and putting
Them into the metal cans- and the smell
Of burning leaves would fill the air
Letting people know that autumn was here.
(memories are made of this- like the song)
poem by Louis Rams
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An Autumn Scene
The autumn sun shines through the near naked trees exposing recent abandoned thrush nests those months before were hidden from Mans eyes. The lingering colored, crisp, dying leaves precariously cling until late November winds and rain end their brief lives leaving only their scented remains on the ground.
A scorpion sun shines through near naked
Trees exposing vacant, forsaken nests
Where blue robin eggs laid comfortable hid
From probing Mans eyes and unwelcome guests.
The lingering, colored, crisp, dying leaves
Cling to the branches precariously
Until the blustering wind starts to heave
Its gusts from the north unrelentingly.
Apropos of rain it soon will follow
Deluging hapless, defenseless brown leafs.
The wind and the rain display a grand show
Dislodging the leaves whose lives were so brief.
After the lull of the wind and the rain
What’re left on the ground are scented remains.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Poem about Poetry - Flowers, the poetry maestros
hey poets, if you wish to excel
learn from the flowers
the lotuses, the roses, crocuses,
the sunflowers, geraniums
humble violets and morning glories
and all the colourful blooms
how they tenderly begin
their poetic dance at dawn
petal by petal to reveal
their exquisite selves
pistils, filamens, pollen, stamens,
and bulbs so precise
and technically executed
to chart nature's wonder
you need the best ballet dancer,
poet, to challenge their heavenly skills
every step, every move, manoevring
this heart to bloom in full admiration
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Autumn Months
The Autumn Months
The month of September
lazily have arrived
and soon will roll by
the autumn will be crowned
with great splendor
when nature splashes its beauty
like bride at the wedding night
the colorful foliage
will be in panoramic display
There will be trees
that shed their leaves
like hot tears
saying farewell to
the summer months
it is the year life cycle
that revolves like a carousel
in an amusement park
we are going for a ride
in an eternal delight
poem by Sherif Monem
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Rambling in the Maple Gardens of Autumn
Rambling in the Maple Gardens of Autumn
Maple-leaves in autumn
pick up
lots of pieces
Write on
iTalk
in the pages
March 21,2008 Hormish Garden of Toronto 6: 00-6: 15am
poem by Hormish Wugh
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Autumn In the Wood
I will enter the quiet wood,
On the rustling leaves I will dance,
I will watch the Godhood,
I will prance to the autumn’s romance.
I will wear a colorful dress,
I will mix up myself with the leaves,
I will hear what wind says,
I will feel the tender breeze.
I will see a birch in gilding,
A maple in its nice crimson,
A spiders beautiful sewing
Created with Gods benison.
The Sun will play with the dewdrops,
The leaves will dance rock and roll.
Feeling desirable aromas of hops
The autumn will be a droll.
I will be fascinated by the autumn’s beauty
Where only peace and harmony are on duty.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Technically
Technically you and me....
can't be
Technically its wrong, and technically i shouldn't sing you my song
but i want to compose my lyric fraught with love
technically you won't hear it
but maybe i can just happen
to sing, happen to love, but.... when
and how? can i make you understand
Technically, my love, something you normally don't see like a grain of sand
technically, there is no 'we'
Technically i can just happen to hold
and to caress, just happen to be next to you,
Technically I can't love you but can we happen to?
happen to be together, technically only happen.
poem by David Knox
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Autumn Leaf Fall
Colourful leaves fall through the air,
Red, orange and yellow.
The ones on the ground start to rot,
Black, brown and purple.
Some get caught in the winter bared trees,
Gold, green and silver.
Leaves of the autumn,
The autumn rainbow,
These are the colours of the autumn leaf fall.
poem by Thistle Wargul
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SHADOWS OF AUTUMN {A Poet's Dream}
Shadows that haunt me in autumn
Memories of colours lost to winter
The Douglas Fir......forever green
Keeps the forests from the barren
and desolate winter...
Shadows tail the whispered winds
November's fickle breeze....snaps
Fresh images, for the Poet's mind
Reclusive me, i write my stories in
silent attitude...
Shadows that vision harvests death
Tips of golden leaves, turn to brown
Morning dew is masked in first-frost
I watch it all, by a window, in a room
of Donne and Poe...
All i need is my paper...and isolation
To feed by yen, for the abstract buffet
I bother no one..... harbour no secrets
I'm about words 'n tales from the dark
side of fiction...
For a Poet i am not- and will never be
Poet's paint a canvass, of open doors
Into the passions 'n perils of their lives
And they do it oh so well...'tis God-Gift
Still i write.....
And, the shadows of Autumn, haunt me
They scream and bleed poetic promise
Like the gold that Robert Frost inspired
While captured, in the autumn shadows
of a Poets dream...
(September 1st,2007)
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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X-Ray crystallography is nowadays an accurate and rapid method of determining conformation in the crystal lattice, which conformation usually corresponds to the preferred conformation in solution.
quote by Derek Harold Richard Barton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Not The Poet's Poet But Perhaps The Would- Be- Poet's Would-Be Poet
I AM NOT THE POET’S POET BUT PERHAPS THE WOULD- BE- POETS WOULD – BE –POET
I am not the poet’s poet-
The one poets of name and fame admire-
But perhaps the would- be- poets would be – poet-
Who tries to be a poet
And tries to understand what it means
To love poetry and live by writing it
Even when the world does not recognize me..
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Beauty, Beautious, Beautiful
Beauty is not a superficial form
Each has their own in essential nature
And in the actions they perform
Until the dissolution of their life
To leave beauty’s impressions in our hearts
Yesterdays beauty never leaves or departs.
Beauty is all around
Each and every place it may be found
As you look with open eyes
Upon the forms that nature makes
Then man seeks to imitate
Yearning to match that beauty all around.
Beauty if you cannot find
Beauty must be in mind
Beauty is in purity
Beauty of simplicity
Beauty runs right through and through
Beauty in me, and them, and you.
Beauty, beauteous, beautiful
Beauty in heaven
Beauty in fire
Beauty in earth
And finally beauty in a simple verse.
poem by David Taylor
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George Edmunds' Song
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clust'ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
poem by Charles Dickens
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A Thread scrawled in Timely Autumn
I watch thousands of leaves drift underneath trees,
while in a tree I sat observing
timely autumn air fetching birds –
to gather above the vegetation high up in the blue
birds rise and utter messages
as timely autumn descends on our…?
On our befallen part globe.
To hear the beauty of innocence across
the damp fall ground;
vibrating, that autumn is
going to flee away and…?
And in comes the disturbing winter breeze –
bring out a smile gloating out
on the stricken faces.
Nations fall dead from autumn exhaustion.
Oh timely autumn has come to soon –
to bear a reason of befallen:
sleeping illnesses
on our old earth.
Red, brown, orange, yell a glow
Buried in leaves is our part globe.
And stricken faces
of shadows
flee away into the nest of warmth
as worrying winter breeze crawls
in, regretfully not,
but gleefully.
Swirling around, sneaking in?
In ajar windows.
Oh season is it time
for timely autumn colour to leave
our autumn colour world into
winter darkness?
Not welcomingly the
winter nips at my thin nose
as I watch above
high in this forlorn tree
with no leaves! But what?
Empty branches of crystal snow.
poem by Celine Berghmans
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