First Snowfall
The last of autumn’s leaves begins assault
Of winter gales. The sap within the trees
In hibernating xylems call a halt
To most activity to some degree.
The birds that once resided amongst them
Already left for warmer spots unknown.
A few remain behind but are condemned
To weather winters snow and ice alone.
The snow begins to fall. At first, a flake,
Then more and more until the trees are white
And weighted. Branches, weak, begin to break
And fall to earth and soon are crowned despite
The slackened storm. The wind subsides and all
Is quiet and calmness follows the squall.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Winter With a Question
The aging trees will creak and groan
To find themselves ringed by frost in sleep
And snow by the wind already blown
Cast upon snow already deep.
The cold is echoed only by silence all,
And the leaves of Autumn entombed in white
At the place where leaves fall
And passing time, vanish from sight.
Who is it that judges these—
Sends leaves beneath the snow
And trees to shiver alongside trees? —
And where do they go?
poem by Ronny Self
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Autumnale for M lady ernestine
The falling leaves dance in the breeze
and clothe the ground beneath the trees,
in autumn colours rich a rare.
The trees themselves will soon be bare.
Left no defence against the wind.
Their winter plans are well designed,
bare twigs and branches hold less snow
than useless leaves they have let go
The wintry gales to no avail
try hard but they are doomed to fail,
They can’t destroy the sturdy trees;
resisting with apparent ease.
Although they bow before the blast
they know that winter cannot last
The winds will die and fade away
the trees will they’re here to stay.
Spring will return the trees will green
as if the winter had not been.
The trees put on their new spring clothes
along with every plant that grows.
8-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fashion sense for M'lady Ann Beard
The trees bedecked with blossom now.
Some clad in pink and some in white.
Contestants in the beauty show
which spring provides for our delight
The blossoms which adorn he trees
are unaware, they do not know.
That very soon the gentle breeze
will shake them loose to fall like snow.
The trees will don new coats of green.
More suited to the summer sun
than what the blossoms would have been
Their time has passed so they have gone.
When autumn comes the trees will know
its time to wear their winter clothes
In preparation for the snow.
The theme of winters beauty show.
Though seasons come and seasons go.
The trees adapt quite easily
for summers sun or winters snow
They’re sure to be dressed suitably.
29/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Austere purity.
It’s autumn now; the trees discard
their final leaves in readiness
When winter comes times will be hard.
Their leafless branches suffer less.
From winter gales and hold less snow
Than they would in summer dress.
The time has come to let leaves go
Although bare branches don’t impress.
Mere silhouettes against the sky.
A tracery of black and white
They can still catch a poet’s eye
and may inspire him to write.
In praise of the simplicity
of winters cold sterility.
Friday,15 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Grey Mist Of A Healing Frost
Our tree has frozen in the snow,
its branches are now burdened low,
The waters let their corpses fall,
freezing and burying all.
Like a fog the snow rolls in,
birds fly through as the blizzard begins,
a sea of white covering the land,
proclaiming the King of winter grand.
The heavenly snow is our Delight,
and fills our world with resonating light,
with peaceful Silence floating in the wind,
healing our tree that has been skinned.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Fall is here!
The days are shorter
The suns rays are dimer
The wind starts to feel
Closer to winter
Trees leaves turn colors
Birds fly to where its warmer
The animals that can't fly
Prepare for the cold weather
Nights come quicker
The chilly breezes
Make you wear clothes
That are thicker
Trees leaves start to fall
At night the wind
Start to whisper
The season is changing
Time has fell back
This means winter is gaining
Nature is most precious
When the weather is changing
Hot long days and warmer nights
Traded for cool short days and chilly nights
Summer is over and fall is here!
poem by Jaycee Wilkerson
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Early Works - Till Another Day Is Done
The woods are multi-coloured now
just before the coming of winter’s snow
the leaves have turned to red and beige
upon the coming of autumn’s rage,
but after the long dark night
the woodlands will be a blanket of white
with snow, soft as feathers
that fall from birds in fields of heather.
With the snow comes a soft wind
to shift and blend
then sparkle as diamonds in the sun
until another day is done.
Date unknown
poem by David Harris
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Once Upon An Autumn Day
Once Upon an autumn day,
Colorful leaves began to fade
In the midst of a chilly, frosty air
As multitude of trees grew steadily bare.
Once upon an autumn day,
The whispering breeze was here to stay
Moving aimlessly through the countless trees
Scattering leaves with the greatest of ease.
Once upon an autumn day,
The leaves whirled freely in every way,
Until at last they came to rest
Finding a haven in which to nest.
Once upon an autumn day,
The trees were dormant, and the leaves lay
Waiting for the winter snow to fall
To quickly obscure them one and all.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Autumn Falls
Autumn falls,
Before Indian Summer begins.
And in New England...
Temperatures cool,
To warm again.
Autumn falls!
And so do Chestnuts and Pine cones,
As well as leaves blown swiftly...
From an assortment of Oak and Maple trees.
And those that remain to cling...
Bring astonishing colors,
Of Orange, Red and mixtures of hues...
Yellow and Brown to them bring.
Autumn falls...
Dramatically!
To leave barren the trees,
Except for the Pine...
Mysteriously,
Just before the first snow of Winter...
Covers with a bright white majesticness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Autumn Sunrise
Autumn Sunrise
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted Nov.13,2008
Autumn is here, while the cold blankets the air,
the autumn leaves show their majestic yellows,
with oranges and outstanding browns.
They fall with mysteries of the weather changes,
while the wind becomes stronger,
The colors change on the plants
with flowers even trees blooms with color.
The autumn clouds roll in to blankets
in the skies with stillness and quiet,
the coolness in the mornings with the evenings
wants you to snuggle up in a warm blanket.
Autumn trees as colorful as you can see
that is blankets the land for its winter’s dream,
The animals lay asleep while the
butterflies and birds go south for the winter.
poem by Lori Triggs
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The Life of a Season
Autumn bids a fond farewell
As Sister Winter takes her place
The colors of the trees in glory
With Winter's white is soon replaced
As Winter's gift is gently falling
Upon the trees that soundly sleep
The world in silent wonder watches
The miracle the season brings
Sadly, nothing in this fickle world
May live forever in its youth
And likewise winter starts to age
Her beauty she begins to lose
Her snow white hair now turns to gray
Her voice is quiet when she speaks
And as the days grow warm and long,
Her touch is light while she grows weak
And soon the people who had loved her
Grow tired of her chilling song
Then Winter sadly leaves her throne
And waits for baby spring to come along
So old, frail Winter bids farewell
As Sister Spring now takes her place
She waits with quiet, steady patience
To come again with youth and grace.
poem by Dee Slater
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Autumn Dies In Many Colours
The cold creeps in like a sleeking ghost
as winter begins to call
autumn dies in many colours
as from trees leaves fall.
The chilled nights are helped
by Jack Frost’s willing hands.
Darkness seeps in early
to shorten our wistful days.
The world is full of dying embers
waiting for the new seasons call
as autumn dies in many colours
across our lawn fall
the last remnants of its leaving
before winter bids its call.
12 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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Autumn’s Glow
There is something about autumn
That brings out such earthiness
Gold leaves adorn bushes and trees
Like an artist with a brilliant brush
Once the leaves dry on the trees
Then the wind begins to blow
It’s a special time of year for me
Because I love autumn so
The cold dry air it seems
Prepare the leaves to fall
Mother Nature’s special time
Yes, it’s the best of all
What a dazzling way to end
The year as winter nears
The way leaves let loose
And dropp like nature’s tears
Oh yes, I love those golden days
Dreamy with autumn’s glow
It makes me smile because I do
Love the season of autumn so!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Mystic Journey: Earth 2
spring is pure potential. there's no
calculating how tall a tree will be,
how far its branches will stretch, how
each fork will unfold, how many
healthy leaves we will see. but
by summer we can measure the result.
pure potential has become actual.
contours of the trunk well-defined,
strength of the root system is visible.
through time the roots are intertwined
with other systems, and from then on
there's no dividing it from other trees.
the forest is a single, inseparable web.
but autumn will split two families.
despite the intermingling of their sap
one will become a shrivelled skeleton
of brittle branches, a stack of sticks.
for it, winter attacks in battalion.
overnight, all's white. ice chokes lungs.
sapless leaves are torn, one-by-one, or in
bunches from bared branches. twisting
in the gravity of an indifferent wind
to breathless unconscious snow they fall.
deciduous flee frost, their proud showing
hiding for a season beneath pitiless snow.
but for evergreens, winter is only a minor
vexation. they take no precautions at all.
the frozen gales of november hold no power.
one white february we buried gordon bentley*
six feet deep. in soil undisturbed for decades,
if not centuries, his solid oak coffin rests.
ever silent (except when shock of wind pulses,
rushes, crushes in waves) tall evergreen trees
guard two graves on a golden hill where pasts
began. in the beginning he hugged that ground.
at his end the same soil compasses him round.
* my father
poem by Doug Bentley
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Winter Fancies
I
Winter without
And warmth within;
The winds may shout
And the storm begin;
The snows may pack
At the window pane,
And the skies grow black,
And the sun remain
Hidden away
The livelong day--
But here--in here is the warmth of May!
II
Swoop your spitefullest
Up the flue,
Wild Winds--do!
What in the world do I care for you?
O delightfullest
Weather of all,
Howl and squall,
And shake the trees till the last leaves fall!
III
The joy one feels,
In an easy chair,
Cocking his heels
In the dancing air
That wreathes the rim of a roaring stove
Whose heat loves better than hearts can love,
Will not permit
The coldest day
To drive away
The fire in his blood, and the bliss of it!
IV
Then blow, Winds, blow!
And rave and shriek,
And snarl and snow
Till your breath grows weak--
While here in my room
I'm as snugly shut
As a glad little worm
In the heart of a nut!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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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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There and back again for M 'lady Chitra
There are no blossoms to be seen.
They’ve served their turn and left the stage
The trees are clad in shades of green
One further step on their passage
from the bare twigs of winter time.
Stark silhouettes against the sky
then blossom time which is sublime
Providing pleasure for the eye/
The trees are in their summer dress
More subtle than their spring attire.
Waiting for autumn to impress
with leaves that seem to be on fire.
The autumn winds well strip them bare
and spread their glory on the ground.
A coloured blanket everywhere.
and twigs now dancing to the sound
of early winter gales that blow.
Creating eerie harmonies,
bare branches moving to and fro
produce discordant melodies.
The trees endure the winters rage,
the bitter cold and falling snow,
The know it’s just another stage
they’re well prepared to undergo.
Before the welcome spring returns
to prompt new tender leaves to grow
Followed by blossoms in their turn.
As seasons come and seasons go,
07/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Looking, Watching, Waiting
It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.
The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.
Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.
Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!
Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.
poem by Vi Lanflagle
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Winter's Snowstorm
Nature hires her white winter coats
To still trees starkly dressed
Motion to the scene as wildlife notes.
Snowflakes settle on a Robins head blessed.
He pouts his red chest, not to blush
Rabbit stops wiggles his nose whisking snow,
Fuelled by the icy breeze’s push,
A flash from his eye’s and off he goe’s,
Synchronous vibrations of Mother Nature gropes
unleashing the resonant howls as the driving winds,
Fuel a snowstorm down the mountain slopes,
‘Neath overhang rocks the wolf packs huddle begins.
Unseen the movement of time holds its breath
For bears the whole winter in slumber,
Oblivious to an icy freezing death
Kept alive by their hibernating Jumper,
Clouds rush by with a lightning flash
As snow and sleet feeds the weathers vice,
Trees bend and fall with a splintered crash.
With several birds sealed in posterities ice.
Thunder cracks the whip in this freezing scene,
Thor declares enough is enough from the mountain tops,
Rumbles in the distance grow softer for white to go green,
Heralding a shaft of light appearing and the snow stops,
And a bird sings.
poem by Ken e Hall
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