SEASONS and MY AUTUMN
When the year grows old
and I grow older too,
I sympathize with the last few months
but anticipate the new.
When the days grow longer
and the nights are shorter too
the pleasure that comes with it
the clock cannot undo.
For men made the clock
to keep track of time.
But God made the seasons
and I know that I'm
slowly approaching autumn,
the autumn of my years
and recognize my connection
to the worldly spheres.
I do not take kindly
to the ending of the year.
But all things on this earth
come to an end I fear.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Love Has Its Seasons
A cool chill sweeps through the air
winter is approaching
soon the grass will have a blanket of white
nights will get longer
then soon it will be over for another year.
Spring will be with us
new growth will spring up from the ground
the days will get warmer
when summer once again appears
spreading its colours everywhere.
Then it is back into autumn once more
and the chilly air that it brings.
Love has its seasons also to share
sometimes it can be frosty
and winter chills fill the air
it can be cold
like the white blanket of snow.
Love can be like spring
imparting new life as it begins to grow.
The glow that if offers
is like the warming summer sun
that blossoms into beauty
before the ravages of autumn come
and the years trickle away.
poem by David Harris
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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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The Hawkbit
How sweetly on the autumn scene,
When haws are red amid the green,
The hawkbit shines with face of cheer,
The favorite of the faltering year!
When days grow short and nights grow cold,
How fairly gleams its eye of gold
On pastured field and grassy hill,
Along the roadside and the rill!
It seems the spirit of a flower,
This offspring of the autumn hour,
Wandering back to earth to bring
Some kindly afterthought of spring.
A dandelion's ghost might so
Amid Elysian meadows blow,
Become more fragile and more fine
Breathing the atmosphere divine.
poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
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Autumn in the Northerm Hemisphere, Spring in the South..
It’s autumn here: the leaves fall brown,
the nights are cold and frosty,
the days are shorter and shorter,
there’s snow on the way…
is autumn asking you to be sad?
Go take a walk: fill your lungs with air –
isn’t that good? Don’t you feel the air
singing of everything that nature needs
to keep things going the whole year round?
Llisten as you walk
to all that goes on in silence;
secret movements pretending to be stillness:
the trees are making plans for Spring,
the plants, the flowers too; the earth
is bubbling secretly with thoughts of Spring..
If on an autumn walk
a Persian poet met a Japanese poet
they might write
a Persian haiku:
This autumn evening
my mind is full of endings;
trees smile as they plan.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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That Year's Autumn Leaves
Darling, do you remember that year’s autumn leaves?
Perhaps it was your aura, but they were the prettiest and keenest I’ve ever seen
Strolling through the park, hand in hand, the foliage crunched lightly under our feet
Such a simple, yet transcendent, treat
That year’s autumn leaves were red and gold
Thinking of them now strikes a pleasant, if somewhat melancholic, chord
The days you walked with me like the Lord
And you were
That year’s autumn leaves and you
Contentedness shared by us two
Harmonic Convergence bestowed on the lucky few
Peace of mind that I knew
Nat King Cole said it best: “Since you went away the days grow long…”
This is evidenced by many of my poems and songs
Many people, sometimes myself, think I should stop, that it’s wrong
The creative outlet, however, is too strong
That year’s autumn leaves were actually summer daze
I just love the original song, and now this unique turn of phrase
Both recall an almost alien phase
Mr. Mercer, I give you all the praise
That year’s autumn leaves were you
They may not have existed, but it’s a metaphor any romantic would die for
I would
Would you?
That year’s autumn leaves were the best autumn has ever produced
At least until we walk in the park in the fall again…or whenever you choose
poem by Yoni Assis
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Season of Mists
I thank you for your view of a view of autumn, Keats
who never saw your own autumn with its actual pitfalls.
Yours was the autumn of childhood, of hope, or romance, of belief,
my mother's autumn though not that of her hardworking family,
yours was never my father's autumn, season of mists,
and yours is not mine. My autumn
for all I would like to subscribe to your lavish play,
is like yours only in single ways each year,
perhaps there are swallows making a din,
or plums and apples falling wasp-eaten, unharvestable.
There is no sickle in my vocabulary or shed,
my autumn is based more on dread of the winter
and having had so little time each summer
to tidy or attend to the garden. Last year
early snow fell on flower baskets ditched from the street
and remained both snow and baskets until the spring
leaving me two seasons behind, without strategy
for a fast approaching repeat autumn, little wonder
and no chance to make anything faintly rhyme,
such is our modern poetry and life
poem by Sally Evans
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It's Just Another New Year's Eve
Don't look so sad,
It's not so bad you know.
It's just another night,
That's all it is.
It's not the first,
It's not the worst you know,
We've come through all the rest,
We'll get through this.
We've made mistakes,
But we've made good friends too.
Remember all the nights we spent with them?
And all our plans,
Who says they can't come true?
Tonight's another chance to start again.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Another night like all the rest.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Let's make it the best.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
It's just another Auld Lang Syne,
But when we're through this New Year
You'll see, will be
Just fine.
We're not alone, we've got the world you know.
And it won't let us down, just wait and see.
And we'll grow old, but think how wise we'll grow.
There's more you know, it's only New Year's Eve.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Another night like all the rest.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
Let's make it the best.
It's just another New Year's Eve,
It's just another Auld Lang Syne,
But when we're through this New Year, you'll see, will be
Just fine.
song performed by by Barry Manilow, music by Barry Manilow, lyrics by Marty Panzer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn Once Again
As the days grow slowly shorter
And summer fades away
I look forward to autumn
Its cool and crispy days
Pumpkins in the patch
Waiting to be cut
Yep, it’s turned to autumn
It has a cooler touch
The chill in the nighttime
Is drying all the leaves
As they fall in the wind
From off the maple trees
It smells so sweet and earthy
So fresh and oh so clean
We bundle up in daytime
For it’s frosty while we dream
And the colors of fall flowers
Just seem to blend right in
With the orange of autumn
A lovely refreshing spin
A very special season
Is just starting to begin
For summer is now over
And it’s autumn once again!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Growing Old
Little by little the year grows old,
The red leaves drop from the maple boughs;
The sun grows dim, and the winds blow cold,
Down from the distant arctic seas.
Out of the skies the soft light dies,
And the shadows of autumn come creeping over,
And the bee and the bird are no longer heard
In grove or meadow, or field of clover.
Little by little our lives grow old,
Our faces no longer are fair to see;
For gray creeps into the curls of gold,
And the red fades out of the cheeks, ah me!
And the birds that sang till our heart strings rang
With strains of hope, and joy, and pleasure,
Have flown away; and our hearts today
Hear only the weird wind's solemn measure.
Youth and summer, and beauty and bloom,
Droop and die in the autumn weather,
But up from the gloom of the winter's tomb,
They shall rise, in God's good time, together.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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It's the nights
It's the nights…
It's the nights
that are the loneliest
The days grow shorter
The nights grow longer
And Morpheus morphs into a tempest
In the dismal dark, I grow cold
The old feel
of comfort, lost
I've naively let
Life slip away
And at such a terrible cost
I used to be somebody…
A person
In my own right
Now I've become nobody,
Alone…especially in the
Dark of night
I've lost all the things
That I once loved
All things I thought were right
Now in my mind…at night…alone
I cannot find
A place to put my mind at rest
Tis the nights…I dread
In my lonely bed…Tis the nights
That are the loneliest
poem by David Whalen
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Autumn Is Coming
Autumn is coming
With gentle breezes
And howling winds
Autumn is coming
To change the colors
To red, brown, and gold
Upon the forest floor
Will lie the leaves of all the trees
When Autumn is here
When the days cool
And the nights grow long
With a bright silver moon in the sky
When the sleepiness sets in
We will sleep until
Winter breaks
Autumn is coming
poem by Autumn Winds
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Moving Up Scared
Anxiety running through my vines
Like in the colors of a chock rainbow
Being washed off the side walk
A little scared but not enough to show it
I take that big step on my own
You know the step from
I know I'm a little kid to
I'm a big kid now that I'm in Middle School
I slowly walk down the blue carpeted terrifying hall
They made it scary for a reason
Then I met you Breanna
On the first day within the first 10 minutes
Some how you saw right through
My brave little 11 year old mask
The overwhelming lack of security
That was now so present
Making me not think in the right sate of mind
The stories of horror that all those years
My sister has told me and all I can think of
Is complete terror that is invading my body
Walking in those double doors for the first time
Was one of the scariest things I had ever done in my 15 years
I thought I was going to cry
And then did when I heard your voice tell me that
You knew I was scared to go to high school
Just like the first day of sixth grade
And the last day of eighth grade year
You know you always knew
Now it came the year that we were all working for
The year where we see that our teachers
Really do know what they are talking about
Their not crazy old people after all
And we get what their talking about
Some of the pieces of the skeleton of our lives
Start to fall into place
The year where we discover who we
For sure don’t want to be
The year where we think we have it all together
The year where the 4.0 doesn’t matter as much any more
Cause this is the year that you have to figure out where your
Going to live in 6 months after it hits you
Oh no I have to do this year there is no more next year
There is barely a tomorrow
then when you realize that tomarrow is coming too quick
and you dont know how to slow the clock down
you really know that the year has came and you hate to say it
but you have to grow up and be the adult now that
mommy and daddy arnt going to be there picking up the slack
all to soon
The year where you look to your best friend from sixth grade
And you know she is just as scared as you
This time Breanna I knew your scared too
A year to learn to really learn
This year is senior year and here and there it's almost
Scaring me to death
P.S
As a senior teachers always ask me to give advice to underclassmen and my advice is this to have fun join a club and a sport if you can make high school an amazing experience don’t do anything you will regret latter. However most of all try in your classes I’m not saying 4.0 just try, try hard because when your friends, and family are not there for you your education is all you will have.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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The Wait
I stand
As the time fies by
With the ticking of the clock
Sounding large by the dock
Moments turning into seconds
And
Seconds running into
days, months, years.
Alone I wait
In this harbour
For arrival of
Only god knows
Who, what, why?
I think my heart would understand
My mind need not try.
Anxiously I watch
As each cargo is dismantled
Searching
Only god knows
Who, what, why?
I think my soul would recognize
My eyes are too shy.
Silently I witness
As each ship pulls out anchor
Slowly disappearing from eye.
And
I wait
As the time flies by
With the ticking of the clock
Sounding large by the dock
Moments turning into seconds
And
Seconds running into
days, months, years.
poem by Anjali Kakati
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In Her Autumn
without trembling,
without resistance,
in the autumn,
every autumn,
year after year,
a tree offers up its living adornment –
that which it has given birth to, nurtured,
and seen transform for the past six months.
and you can see the wisdom of her perfect surrender in her face,
the character lines
of seasons spent living,
giving to Nature,
drawn out across her bark.
And I know a Woman
whose face is deep with meaning,
radiating nature’s beauty,
simple, solid, stalwart.
She gives of her strength and solace
to anyone who approaches Her;
And in her Autumn,
Her dress will fall,
and she will surrender completely
to that which God wills, to that which must come to all.
poem by Marc Mannheimer
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Changes
Seasons may change, we stay the same.
We always stay the same.
We always stay the same.
Winter brings snow, when no, no flowers grow.
They wait for the spring.
Yes, they wait til the spring.
In the spring, young men grow.
til theyre old enough to know,
Better.
Better.
Leaves have turned green, now spring has been
And gone
Summers here.
The autumn trees swing to and fro.
Their leaves turn brown,
Now young men know
Better.
Better.
[just let me listen to that.]
Evryone one feels good
And I knew they would.
Its been quite a good year.
Its been quite a good year.
Its been quite a good year.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Autumn Leaves Changing Colors
As summer ends and autumn comes
Days get shorter, misty and cold
And in this spectacular season
Nature's beauty graciously unfold
Trees get ready to slow down
And in autumn take some rest
And show amazing colors of love
That are all at their best
Green fades away quickly
And yellow and orange appear
To show off their vibrant hues
And warmup their surrounding dear
Sunlight and cool nights of autumn
Help leaves to turn orangish red
And combine all things smoothly
To add magic in season's lovely bed
And all this shedding and replacement
Of leaves continue throughout the year
And trees only shed leaves in autumn
To prepare for another winter dear
This is God's spectacular display
Of beautiful colors of the fall
During which many changes occur
Including yellow, orange and red of all.
***Inspired by the changing colors of autumn in Canada.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Blind
(lord)
Jon plays harpsichord on this track, which is a love song, sort of squeezed into the format of a twelve bar blues. the middle section is a descending chromatic sequence which is intended to give
Rt of slowing down effect.
I see reflections in the water
Autumn colours, summers daughter
And as as the year is growing older
I see winter on my shoulder
I stand in the haze
Watching stormy ripples grow on my own
Never knew your needed
Till I found myself standing here alone
And in the water, such a sad face
Slowly drowning, such a sad face
If only I could change the seasons
Like a poet, Ive my reasons
It started to snow in the middle of july
Wonder why
Never did understand you
My sorrow is hanging in the grey sky
In the summer days we flew to the sun
On melting wings
But the seasons changed to fast
Leave us all behind
Blind
But then the stone fell on the water
Putting end to summers daughter
And me, I turn away remembering
All the seasons, such a sad thing
It started to rain in the middle of the sun
Winters begun
Never did understand you
My sorrow is hanging in the grey sky
In the summer days we flew to the sun
On melting wings
But the seasons changed to fast
Leave us all behind
Blind
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greeting Us With A New Surprise
After the March winds
we have the April rain.
Now in May we watch
the pretty flows grow.
June, July and August
are the flowering seasons
at the height of the noonday’s sun.
September brings the autumn leaves
near the closing of the year.
October seems to bear all
as the autumn leaves begin to fall.
November brings a chill
to every living thing
announcing winter is on its way.
December’s snow blankets
the hard frozen ground.
January brings in a new year
to February’s valentines.
And so each moth rolls by,
each greeting us with a new surprise.
23-24 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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In This Time Of The Year
My heart is in yearn
Memories are coming near
My longing and my yearn
In this time of the year
In this time of the year
All those who were dear
Still are living here
Even their voices still I can hear
In this time of the year
Sentiments melted with tear
Inside my heart love emotions gathered with fear
Ah in this time of the year
I can feel so neat
Compassion for everything
for everyone increased a beat
I can see the realities so clear
What's and who's Lear
In this time of the year
we are standing here
Out of the time we are in fear
Hearts are tired war's pain hard to bear
In this time of the year
Ah aches are in heat
Sorrows melted with my heart's beat.
The clock on the wall has stopped before millions of years.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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