Signs Of Fall
The first lonely leaf to fall
The breezy rattle of cornstalks
The fresh smell of baled hay
The turkeys prescient gobble
Dawn breaking later
Sun setting sooner
Ads for kid’s school clothes
Temperature no longer rising
Wooly worms forecasting our winter
Monarchs wisely migrating to Mexico
Blackberries ripe
Walnuts falling
Squirrels busily storing
Sunflowers sadly drooping
Changes on the horizon
Fall is coming
The best season of all!
(and pre-season football)
poem by David Whalen
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The Growing Season
The seasons work together
To make the world possible
Summer, the sun season
Fall, the leaf season
Winter, the snow season
And spring, the time of beauty
Summer, the yellow season
Fall, the orange season
Winter, the white season
And spring, the time of the rainbow
Summer, the blank season
Fall, the shadow season
Winter, the dying season
And spring, the growing season
The growing season
Autumn'© Charudutta.Aghor
'Autumn'© Charudutta.Aghor
Miles away which make me walk,
Probes my inner feelings to talk;
Those peach red leaves ripens for a reason,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
The winds that blow thoughts in mind,
Churns and whips my feelings to grind,
Makes deep Poetic Mountain melts from rock frozen,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
Gives my skin a fleshy blush of supple,
Bliss thy leaves by tall trees of maple,
It’s the mood which liberally slips loosen,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
The squashy orange vibrant sky of sunset,
Matures my tender thought to a poetic concept,
Composes lines that rises on poetry horizon,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
Those endless streets, carpeted by crisp leaves to welcome,
The semi-storm climate, crazily eager for the next blossom,
The god’s gift which specifies, the specialty of a specially chosen,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
'Autumn'© Charudutta.Aghor.
poem by Charudutta Aghor
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Like The Jackfruit
like the jackfruit you wait for the season
when you become ripe
and when it comes you exude the scent
of the sweet one
and then you are removed from your stalk
and then they tap with their hands your body
and smell you with their noses
kissing you and hugging you and then
they cut you to slices and then they eat every chunk of you
meanwhile some saps flow from the stalk where you were taken
they fall dropp by drop
they do not stop until the night is over
each dropp is a poem coming from your hands
on that ripe season, your own time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I'm A Fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan
Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Tackle hard and play it fair
Football season again
I’m a fan
And at the end of the year
We’ll be dressed in the gear
As they turn to salute the crowd
And we’ll stand with pride
‘Cause they’re our side
And we’ll sing their praises loud
We’re the fans, We’re the fans, We’re the fans
Copyright Colin Coplin 2004 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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End Of The Season
Winter time is coming
All the sky is grey
Summer birds arent singing
Since you went away
Since youve been gone, end of the season
Winter is here, close of play
I get no kicks walking down saville row
Theres no more chicks left where the green grass grows and I know that
Winter is here, end of the season
My reasons gone, close of play
I just cant mix in all the clubs I know
Now labours in, I have no place to go
Youre on a yacht near an island in greece
Though you are hot, forget me not
I will keep waiting until your return
Now you are gone, end of the season
Winter will come any day
Back in the scrub on a wet afternoon
Down in the mud, dreaming of flowers in june
End of the season
End of the season
song performed by by Kinks
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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Midwinter Spring
Cloudless sky big and blue,
pale yellow sun warms clear air.
Now comes a new day;
a new season begins,
where winter has been.
Where sorrow has been
a tiny huge shift toward healing,
toward hope.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
Fragile warmth touches chill soil,
tender shoots push toward the surface
seeking nourishing rays.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
A heart slowly opens in tentative inches,
pain still fresh and loud within;
blue sky reaches down.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
The chatter of baby birds
rises on fresh air,
touches the ear, turns the mind.
The heart hears a tiny huge voice consoling.
A new season begins
where winter has been.
(1/2009)
Winter
As I walked outside
My face can feel the cold
I am taking a stride
I see people young and old
Taking a stride down the snow on their sleds
I see lots of beautiful snow
And not so ripe trees
Winter is a season that makes me warm inside
Winter is a sad season to everyone
To me, winter is a happy season.
Fall leaves
It is Fall of the year again
The leaves are falling
I can remember this season and
The Ichabod story
The headless horseman too.
It was frighten
It would send chills through you
We would rush home from school
To look out the window
To get a clear view
Observering to see if ghost and goblins were actually true
This season doesn't seem as hauntly and scary as it use to.
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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Sooner Or Later
Written by christine mcvie and eddy quintela.
I thought Id let you go
In my heart and in my mind
And look towards the future
Leaving the past behind
Well maybe its the season
That season of the year
Defying all my reason
I just want you to be here
I want you to be here
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
I want you to be here
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
And though its not the first time
Ive thought of you this way
The darkness of the winter
Keeps my happiness at bay
Its easy to forget you
In the summer, in the light
With the days of lazy laughter
And sweet, sweet dreams in the night
Sweet dreams in the night
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
Sweet dreams in the night
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
S all I really mean is
When all is said and all is done
Its all because of you babe
That Im the lucky one
I am the lucky one
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
I am the lucky one
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
I am the lucky one
Sooner or later
Sooner or later Ill forget
I am the lucky one
Sooner or later
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn On The Horizon
Autumn is on the horizon, I can tell
By the colored leaves that fell,
While all around the land was green,
The change in the season hardly seen.
Autumn is on the horizon, I can tell,
Orchard trees are fruitless as well.
Their outstretched boughs as if in a spell
As the succulent leaves begin to pale.
Autumn is on the horizon, I can tell,
Birds not singing on the porch rail
Sensing the coming of the autumn chill,
Prepare to flock on the nearby hill.
Autumn is on the horizon, I can tell
Seeing woolly caterpillars on the boarded well,
Squirrels scurrying across the ground
Where hickory nuts now abound.
Autumn is coming soon, if one believes,
The land will be covered with a blanket of leaves.
Flowers wilting beneath the hazy sky,
No longer attracting a beautiful butterfly.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Sooner Or Later
Written by orbison/dees
Sooner or later, I knew youd win.
Sooner or later, you would be close to me again.
Sooner or later, I knew I would break down and call.
Sooner or later Id hear your voice and fall in love with you again.
Yeah right or wrong my lonely heart just let you in.
Didnt take long being alone to fall again.
Sooner or later, it had to be.
Sooner or later, you would be close to me.
Sooner or later I knew that Im not over you.
Sooner or later, I knew Id fall back in love with you.
Its up to you
Let me know what to do.
Sooner or later.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, frisking along;
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, bleating a song;
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, wearing fur-coat,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, looking so bright!
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, eating green grass,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, let me first pass,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, grazing so nice,
Wooly Lamb, Wooly Lamb, what a surprise!
One of my first Children's Rhymes
poem by John Celes
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Sighting
I ask for a chance to sight a bird,
May winter run away afterward.
This season is just some of the year,
What may pass can disappear.
My season transmits its pride to the park,
And the nation changes a season, very dark.
Let evil be somebody very dark and grey,
Not the present season, not winter anyway.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Walk With the Wind 6
31
the wind goes around
circling the trees and bushes
this October noon
32
drooping leaves yellow
on to the ground of the night
winter slowly walks
33
as the wind blows
with its many hollow voices
- night goes to star fall
34
momentarily breeze
over my roof and windows
singing for winter
35
no longer living
the bouquets of yesterday
- dried for ornament
36
inside the forest
the silent goes lonely by
- single ruffling leaf
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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O Stubborn Leaf
Alone, suspended high above the ground,
On barren limb, defying season’s change-
O stubborn leaf! Was I to winter bound,
Was I a hapless slave to winter’s rage,
I’d set aside this ghastly rake,
Climb your bough and give it a shake,
Bring you down to where broken leaves are found.
But in my heart I share your stubborn hold,
Resisting winter’s scourge upon the trees.
I cherish fall, the brilliant days of gold
And red, such colors dancing in the leaves,
Not fading brown from winter's freeze,
Falling, rotting, filling the eaves,
Till every trace is buried in the cold.
Blinking Cold
We all know when winter is about to call
Jack Frost starts pinching
your nose and your toes.
White powder begins to fall
from someone on the roof
shaking it on us all.
The sound of sleigh bells tinkling
tells us Christmas is back again
and we’d better sort out our overdraft
for all those presents we cannot afford.
Oh, yes it’s that time of year.
When you put your clothes on the washing line,
and bringing them back in later,
all starched, ironed and stiff as a board.
The season when we should be
tucked up in a nice warm bed
to see the whole thing through.
The season when your pets hug the fire
and leave you in the cold.
We’ve seen it all,
been down that road before.
Winter is here again,
and ain’t it blinking cold.
poem by David Harris
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Don’t lose hope. Nothing is permanent
Are you down today? Don’t just sit there and worry all day.
Rise from where you fall and do something, don’t just sit there.
Try some more. There will be some other ways. Nothing is
Permanent. Luck is for everyone. There is always a sun for
You to shine, your season will come and bring you what
You need, what you dream, what you wish, what is best for you
Don’t just sit
There, stand and be firm and do something. There is a season
For everyone, your lucky day has yet to come, so don’t just
Sit there and be eaten by the mouths of worry, or be bitten
By the fangs of anxiety. Your day will come, your lucky star
Will shine, so don’t just sit there.
Tonight, look at the falling
Star and make your wish again. Nothing is permanent,
Everything is temporary, even the happiness and the fortunes
That your enemies now enjoy.
From your fall you shall rise. From your fall you shall learn.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Autumn
Autumn is a beautiful season
Summer ending Winter ahead
a slight chill in the air
beautiful leaves of Gold and Red.
Animals busy gathering food
some ready to hibernate
Squirrels rushing about
others looking for a mate.
Home made bread and soups
collecting wood for Bonfire Night
kids knocking doors for trick or treat
dressed to scare dressed to fright.
Going for walks in the Woods
Blackberries picked nice and sweet
going back to a nice hot meal
time to rest the tired feet.
Autumn is a beautiful season
it isn't dull or boring and Grey
the night may come in a bit early
so make the best of the day!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Another Football Season Ending
Another football season coming to an end
not even the play offs to look forward to
still that's becoming the norm
when you support my team in Sky Blue.
But my loyalty is always going to be there
and I'm proud to be a Coventry City fan
turning up to all of the home games
and as many away matches as I can.
We'll all be miserable throughout the summer
with no interest in Cricket or Wimbledon
too busy thinking about next season
than lying on a beach in the sun.
But I'll put myself through it all again
as I have done for so many years
hoping that next season is going to be great
but knowing it'll probably end up in tears!
poem by Kevin Halls
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