Life's unending cycle...
Senses of sight and sound brought to life,
Lingering once more in the beauty of summer's death,
Leaves drift down and down falling gently,
Meandering by, carried upon the breath of existance,
A myriad of colours dancing on the bones of summer,
Autumn awakens in hues of scarlet and gold,
All of life retreats with colour and carefree joy,
But soon autumn too shall exhale her dying breath,
Defeated once more by winter's all conquering sword,
And life's unending cycle continues unhalted...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Mother Nature
For seasons of life
Each one different
In its majestic wake
Spring
The beginnings of life
Were flowers come to breath?
On a field full of dreams
Butterfly's flutter
Their brilliance in flight
A cycle of life
That gives meaning to life
Summer
Its gentle breeze
Wave's the fields of corn
Its beauty of nature
Grows its colours of gold
The sun shines down
On children at play
As the days drift by
Colours spring to life
Autumn
Golden rays of sunshine
Moves across the fields
Capturing the colours
Of summers falling leaves
Mystical dew drops
Cling to the leaves
As showers and thunder
Cascade upon dead leaves
Winter
Its barren life no more
But buried underground
Beats a life Mother Nature hordes
Then just when you think
There is no life no more
The cycle of life
Begins again once more
Were Mother Nature welcomes
Springtime once more
poem by Kaila George
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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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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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Come September
Come September,
when two of nature's seasons live as one,
where days of summer shed their final afterglow
'ere falling gently 'neath an autumn's rising sun,
and every hanging bough and turning leaf will know ~
the green meets gold,
within the murmurings and turnings of trees
that flutter their branches in a restless dance
of impending change. Their limbs akimbo, as arms,
waving goodbye...watching autumn advance,
yet, summer pleads,
to share the days of changeling September
and clings to every breath of autumn's eve ~
spreading warmth and sultry breeze with waning movement
while knowing time grows short, and it must leave,
as beauty stays,
though, not for long, for gold becomes gold
after summer's sung her final song,
and lustrous are the days and nights made bold
with autumn's breath blowing chilly and cold ~
O'grieve September,
though, not for long, as gold turns into winter white,
then into green with 'springing' guile,
and summer's sight brings back September,
to share a season's remembered smile.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Autumn Is Brown!
The colour of Autumn is brown
Like the leaves of Spring are crown!
The colour of Winter is white
Like the Summer heat at its height!
Falling dry leaves are symbol of Autumn
After flowers of Spring with bees hum!
Autumn is the symbol of wisdom ever
After rich growth of fruits in Spring sure!
Rain in Autumn is joyful as in heaven
Just as for the birds trees are haven!
Autumn ever denotes mental maturity
Just as fully grown flowers of beauty!
poem by Ramesh T A
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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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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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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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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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Colour
There's colour in the woodlands as far as eye can reach,
Pale gold upon the elm-tree and bronze upon the beech;
To witch the world with beauty a hundred hues ally -
But bonniest is the scarlet when a Whip rides by.
On towers of brown and crimson, on roofs of royal gold
The banners of the autumn their splendid tints unfold,
And no one will their wonder, their magic lure deny -
Yet dearer is the scarlet when a Whip rides by.
Ah! Bright September woodlands, your magic only means
That summer’s life is ebbing on the bed your beauty screens;
Not all your painted pennons on all your towers so high
Can match one patch of scarlet when a whip rides by!
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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Autumns Golden Wreath...
On dusty fields of umber
Ther' be no trail nor trace of Summer
Octobers breath unfolds
A wreath of Autumn, solid gold
Smoked shadow, naked branch
Leaves like ticker-tape in dance
Trees stripped of their potpouri
Of majesty, an artists dream
Of a many hues and tones
The artists inspiration hones
Pictorial skills of imagescape
Depicting Autumn's scent and taste
Of hickory, acorns and rain
Harvests fertile spread of grain
Hallowed be these precious gifts
For soon the winds will shift
Winter bites with lions teeth
As surely Robert Frost would speak
Engaged by Autumn's golden wreath
'Til Autumns Death thus be complete
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Storm Chant...
Listen to the haunting melody of the rain,
Dancing playfully within your dreams.
Feel the summer breeze gently kiss your skin,
The fleeting breath of life you covet so greatly.
Observe the scorching lightening strikes,
As they light up the shadows beneath nights veil.
Dance with abandonment to the thunder rumbles,
The voice of existance that calls the very soul.
Embrace the warm humidity of the darkness,
Enraptured once more by lifes melodious storm chant...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Last Days of Summer
Whatever the way the summer days end,
In the type of summer is how it has been,
Whether a good one or bad one,
The last days of summer,
Can be sad or happy endings,
As each season ends,
With another one beginning,
The summer could have been,
Miserable yet,
Sun scorching us everyday,
And sunlight shining on all our faces,
It is how it is,
Out there where all is seen,
In,
Summer days of fun,
Summer days of love,
Summer days of seeing,
Summer days of been,
Out and about where summer is,
And when summer came and went?
With a mundane feeling that it left?
Was the last days of summer,
And the begining of another,
Autumn as we know it,
Fall in other places,
Where the ending of one season shows,
By the decaying of it,
When Autumn Fall shows,
Where we will wrap up and snuggle,
With warm cuppas drinks,
With a book,
Or,
Catch up on watching films,
Yet,
Still,
Musing over the summer days,
Of sunshine memories,
Now,
Warm hats and gloves,
With rustle leaves,
That rustle beneath,
Our feet as we walk,
Through the park,
And see,
The summer leaves turn,
To autumn shades,
Taking in,
The last days of summer,
Reflecting,
And remember,
The falls of Autumn's,
Is the signs of summer,
That has ended,
And minglings with,
All that falls,
From the summer ending,
To autumn beginnings,
Is the,
Decaying,
Of summer,
To regrow itself,
For next season's of summer,
When it begins again,
Yet,
In between,
There's,
Autumn,
Winter,
Spring,
Till,
Again,
Last days of summer,
And all in bloom again.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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The Colours of Autumn
Coppery red leaves,
Falling from trees,
That soon will be bare.
The colours of Autumn.
Piles of reddish brown,
Lying scattered on the ground.
And a chill in the air.
The colours of Autumn.
The sky is grey,
Shorter days,
And darker nights.
The colours of Autumn.
Evenings bathed in gold,
Thunderclouds so bold,
And weaker sun, not as bright.
The colours of Autumn.
poem by Amy Darnbrook
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When the wind blows
When the wind blows in autumn
Falling leaves are the outcome
As the trees become lonesome
Naked without leaves
But with the believe
Again to become wholesome
When the wind blows in winter
It welcomes a chilling breeze
With it comes the familiar freeze
Everything becomes cheaper
Activities decrease, the only increase
Are the utility bills
When the wind blows in spring
Plants spring back to life
All natural life awakens and sings
With the honeybees buzzing and cheering
The wind begins to show signs of caring
For it is awaiting summer and preparing
Whilst gently airing
When the wind blows in summer
Its power is less fierce and dimmer
Like a beginner of a swimmer
The winds touch is a lot calmer
As it turns on its gentle charmer
Allowing us to get carried away
On the hot beaches as dreamers
To a winters wind
They say no, no, no
To a summers wind
They say blow, blow, blow
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Life in Winter's Graveyard
Walking down a muddy road
In the throes of December
Heaving through the decay
Of Spring's now frozen embers
Is there life in Winter's graveyard?
Frozen trees bereft of leaves
Stand upright in frosted death
Fields once ripe and lush with fruit
Lay still without the Summer's breath
Is there life in Winter's graveyard?
Soggy soil sloshing below my feet
Autumn's leaves have been swept away
And while I march on viciously
My eyes behold only death and gray
Is there life in Winter's graveyard?
Then comes a patch of greenery
A lush, though simple, paradise
I stop to gaze at the loveliness
Beheld before beauty-starved eyes
There is life in Winter's graveyard.
A patch of three-leaved charms
Circling the base of a withered tree
I gaze at this Springtime green
Surrounded by December's villainy.
There is life in Winter's graveyard.
Though Winter's tomb encases
Our world in a carcass' masquerade
This patch of sought-for greenery
Removes the masks from Death's charade
There is life in Winter's graveyard.
poem by Josephine J.W
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Autumn Dreams
Can you smell the morning mist
Roasted leaves cannot resist
The chilled wind of change.
As colours rearrange
That thrill
In orchard dawn the senses fill.
The wine of Autumn dreams to spill.
With scented smoke
Memories evoke
A childrens choir
Around bonfire.
Will you wake to winters' cold
To frozen lake
With skaters bold.
That silent death of ageing year
The bated breath of Christmas cheer.
But is all that glitters what it seems?
I'll find my gold in Autumn dreams.
Where nature set by silver streams
Great art to fade away.
No gallery could ever display
The beauty that the heavens spray.
I know you reminisce
Of Summer love
Or Springs' first kiss.
The frosted snowman moonlit bliss.
Or lonely beach hung with moon
To capture rapture of your hearts tune.
I love the ocean catching beams.
Yet I seek forever Autumn dreams.
poem by Kevin East
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Even if this summer is like none before (in answer to William Shakespeare)
Even if this summer is like none before,
with its dazzling flowers and fruits, even if none
other will ever be the same as this one
summers do not cease to exist and there will be one more
even is there is something to adore
and even preserving fruit, flowers, colours and tastes life goes on
and in winter natures lies asleep and quickly it is gone
with another great summer in store
and no one is truly bereft
when winter comes with its beauty
as if stuck in a cleft
when autumn, winter and spring appears with their own serenity.
nothing in a bottle can capture life, to have its essence left;
no human is apt in ability, to such profanity.
poem by Gert Strydom
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An Ode to Autunm
Death becomes beauty when autumn
Kisses the forest trees
Creating a sea of brilliant colours
As far as the eye can see
Summer dies that fall may live
A death be not all in vain, for we
Welcome fall with its harvest bounty
Knowing summer will once more shortly reign
For autumn is the time trees they weep
Their treasure of red and yellow golden leaves
Whilst Jack Frost paints his icy portraits nightly
Upon any window canvas he can see
Autumn is a magical time
T'which we are truly blessed
Of all the seasons that come and go
Tis fall I like the best
poem by John A. Hancock
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Autumnal
THE Autumn leaves are dying quietly,
Scarlet and orange, underfoot they lie;
They had their youth and prime
And now's the dying time;
Alas, alas, the young, the beloved, must die!
They are dying like the leaves of Autumn fast,
Scattered and broken, blown on every blast:
The darling young, the brave,
Love had no power to save.
Poor Love-lies-bleeding, Love's in ruins, downcast.
Alas, alas, the Autumn leaves are flying!
They had their Summer and 'tis time for dying.
But these had barely Spring.
Love trails a broken wing,
Walks through deserted woods, moaning and sighing.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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