Touch of Autumn
It is blowing, it is getting cold
Birds are chirping, birds are resting!
The long sunny day is gone
replaced by the sudden onset of night!
Leaves from trees, fruits like apples,
peaches, berries and grapes fall down.
My beans and squash seem ready
to sleep and abort the budding of flowers.
The green colours turn golden and
cover the living soil and ground.
September, October and November,
the golden long autumn months
of fallen leaves from windy heights.
___________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Related quotes
September Song
Oh its a long long time from may to december
And the days grow short when you reach september
When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
And you aint got time for waiting game
When days dwindle down to a precious few
September november, and these few golden days Id share with you
Those golden days I share with you
When the days dwindle down to a precious few
September november, and all those golden days Id share with you
Those golden days Id share with you
Those golden days Id share with you
Those golden days Id share with you
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Silence Shall Be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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84
my silence shall be
i find this in the forest of trees
long trees, shady, such that what you can see
are only shadows of leaves
and what you hear is only the sound of the wind
choked between tight walls,
this is my silence,
moist, and soft, between a growth of wild
ferns
rotten leaves heaps and heaps of
rotten leaves
layer after layer of rotten leaves
thick and pushed still to the roots
smashed to the ground
some seeds from the oaks
or maybe from the flowers of the orchids
or some sweet fruits and red berries fall
in there
and they begin to grow
rich as humus is this soil down
the darkness of this forest,
this is my silence
deep inside me
moist, rotten, but soon
lots shall grow
seeds turning into sprouts
to trees again
perhaps taller than ever
some fruits so sweet and colored and shiny
some flowers scented and so lovely,
this my silence
shall be, i am keeping it for years
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Fall
The leaves have already grown back
now that november is gone
The sweet november i met you
months go by and we grow farther apart
The cool gentle breeze blowing in my face
and now a lukewarm summers embrace
but as the seasons change so do we
not tied back, but not necassarily free
that sweet october
how sweet and kind it was
now love flourished and blossomed
now my heart misses the sweet fall
because summer has nothing waiting for me
almost like if in the season of nothing at all
and the branches on my tree now grow tall
with flowers and birds
but i still miss november, october and early december
moving on not being able to stall
i move on with your memory
and the memory of our
sweet fall
poem by Alma Estrella
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January Cold Desolate
January cold desolate;
February all dripping wet;
March wind ranges;
April changes;
Birds sing in tune
To flowers of May,
And sunny June
Brings longest day;
In scorched July
The storm-clouds fly
Lightning-torn;
August bears corn,
September fruit;
In rough October
Earth must disrobe her;
Stars fall and shoot
In keen November;
And night is long
And cold is strong
In bleak December.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Autumn Stroll
In the early afternoon of the autumn day,
the trees are shining with leaves in green and gold,
the sun is shining with its golden aura all over the sky,
The ground is covered with the treasure of colorful leaves.
Holding hands we stroll in the golden meadows,
the shadows we form follow our romantic hearts together,
the wind stirs up and showers the leaves over you,
your hair and face looks pretty decorated with nature's jewelry.
The flower bouquet I brought to offer you,
as the token of my love and appreciation for you,
I felt spellbound when you smelled the flowers,
Your smile and happiness made my heart flutter with joy.
While strolling with our hands in hands,
kicking and stomping the leaves all around,
our conversations seem so romantic and full of love,
that even the birds seemed eager to hear as they hovered over us.
poem by Jay P Narain
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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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Leaves (thread)
under the dogwood
leaves cover
a cat’s grave
early spring
one leaf still dangles
from the tree
palmistry
dew drops on a leaf
pick a vein
widow’s diary
pressed rose petal
the last leaf
with the rain drops
leaves flutter to the ground
fall showers
fallen leaves
circusing in the grass
merry-go-wind
October shower
leaves in the gutter
disembark
leaves changing colors
across the landscape
season's chameleons
morning rain
under maple leaves
tap my shoulder
leaves ripple
with melodies
cicadas song
These were published online by Sketchbook. See September/October “leaves” Haiku thread:
poem by Ben Gieske
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Mellow Autumn
Autumns rich mellow flavoured air
Unmasked, the trees are now bare.
Seldom do we hear the birds sing
When the Autumn leaves are falling.
Smoke trails from the burning leaves
Carried on the light cool breeze.
The scent of spiced apple days
In the suns golden haze.
The Pine towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passres by.
Smell the crisp refreshing air
Wind is blowing everywhere.
The leaves they scatter without sound
Gently cascading to the ground.
© Hazel
poem by Hazel Connelly
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Squash in Blossom
How lush, how loose, the uninhibited squash is.
If ever hearts (and these immoderate leaves
Are vegetable hearts) were worn on sleeves,
The squash's are. In green the squash vine gushes.
The flowers are cornucopias of summer,
Briefly exuberant and cheaply golden.
And if they make a show of being hidden,
Are open promiscuously to every comer.
Let the squash be what it was doomed to be
By the old Gardener with the shrewd green thumb.
Let it expand and sprawl, defenceless, dumb.
But let me be the fiber-disciplined tree
Whose leaf (with something to say in wind) is small,
Reduced to the ingenuity of a green splinter
Sharp to defy or fraternize with winter,
Or if not that, prepared in fall to fall.
poem by Robert Francis
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Autumn Leaves
The autumn leaves swirl to the ground in their millions.
Gold, russet, ochre, burnt umber, and deep vermillion.
Down to the ground, the dying leaves flit and flutter;
On to the grassy bank, the pathway, and into the gutter.
Some of the colours of the leaves are deep and so very rich.
Whirling along the ground, some leaves tumble into the ditch.
A thick layer of multicoloured leaves now carpets the earth,
Leaving the trees bare, in readiness, for next spring’s rebirth.
With changing leaf colours, many people love this time of year,
But, that summer is well and truly over, it is now perfectly clear.
The many colours mixed together are a magical sight to behold;
I love the shades of yellow, crimson, sienna, and ruby red, so bold.
Some leaves are mottled, with two glorious colours or more;
Adding to the fabulous display, which now lies upon the floor.
Children love nothing better, than to frolic through the fallen leaves;
When workmen collect them up, they’re left feeling very aggrieved.
Even though the weather is getting cold, the colours look so warm.
Fiery reds and oranges, and golden hues, like those of ripened corn.
Photographers find this time of year, so very evocative and inspiring;
The spectacular displays before them, they spend much time admiring.
As the season draws on, the once vibrant colours begin to dull and fade.
Soon, all that is left are brown leaves, which once boasted brilliant shades.
When leaves first change their colour, they create much admired foliage,
But with age and weather, over the coming weeks, there is much spoilage.
I love the dark green leaves, with their edges tinged with a brilliant red.
But, alas, those colours will fade, now that the leaf is no longer being fed.
The crisp, bright colours can offer cheer on even the very dullest of days,
But in our minds, we know it won’t be long before winter comes our way.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Roses Withered
Fall has come, I see roses withered
with timely settled of fluttering birds.
The golden colors of fallen leaves,
upon the grounds and upon the eaves.
With whistling winds a joyous tune,
an eerie light from an Autumn's moon.
And underfoot fresh acorns fallen,
with the scent of Summer's last final pollen.
Masks wearing children, running door to door
carrying bags of sweets hoping for more.
The echo chirps of the southbound geese
the sight of that flight, wish it not ceased.
I think of the crisp, clean air
and laughter's from an Autumn's fair.
A feast prepared for a family's gathered
around the table and around a smoked bird.
The smell of smoldering leaves
and the first snowflake upon the eaves.
The mixed golden shades within the trees;
the season has come, I lay with the stars at ease.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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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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At Dawn
Early in the morning;
Before the Sun had come;
A cool breeze was blowing;
I walked up and down.
Neighbours were still sleeping;
The weather was so cold;
All was very quiet;
Except the chirp of Birds!
It had been much raining;
All through the previous night;
Coffee having taken,
I pranced like a kite.
‘Twas a Sunday morning!
And all would get up late;
Just the noise of motors,
Was in the far-off roads.
The Air was quite freshn’ing,
I breathed and breathed and breathed;
I saw a group of black clouds;
In the Sky inter-weaved.
The plants seemed so smiling;
Their leaves were green and fresh;
The ground was wet, sodden;
And showed some sprouts afresh.
Plantain-trees looked stately;
Their green leaves so well-spread;
I saw green leaf-cutters!
On Moringa-tree leaves.
I had a good night’s sleep;
The family left for hol’s;
I listened to the noise,
Of insects ‘neath the leaves.
Two trees had delivered,
A bunch of bananas each!
One was so much sagging;
The trunk would break, it seemed!
The Sky now brightened up;
The Sun still nowhere seen;
As if someone would come,
The garden next look’d clean.
I stretch’d my limbs few times,
Aiming to breathe better;
I had a bout of cough,
By now, ’twas almost Dawn!
Soon the Air got filled up,
With noise of various Birds;
They flew in joy, singing;
Another Dawn was born!
poem by John Celes
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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 My Dear
I
Autumn my dear!
Thy winds are cool and sharp
And are mine to embrace
Even as I draw you near
I sniff the traditional odour
Of dead leaves and lavender...
Oh, how they have haunted me
Since late December;
That I wished it early October
II
Autumn my dear!
Orange by they favourite colour
To alleviate the people's fear
Of dying Summer,
Idyllic paradise,
That you have replaced
To my heart sprung joy
My Autumn, ever dearest,
I have waited ever long
III
Autumn my dear!
The harvest has been reaped,
And the leaves have long been scattered
From the trees your winds have shattered
The trees have since weeped,
As you drew near.
poem by Ryan C. Walker
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Premature
Pale berries fade to bright
Leaves green whisper autumn
Creasing brown and crisping - falling,
July parts with Summer sudden as fright.
Hedges swelling berries threaten indigo
Fallen Summer lightly crunches underfoot
Lazy spotted silk flits amongst the cabbages,
As rain drips and autumn winds blow.
Harvest dawns soon but now
It’s colours, winds and crops grow,
Fattening Moon and Sun to lingering orange
Swelling cold to comfort woe.
28-7-05
poem by Laura Russell
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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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The timetable of four
The golden glows of sunlight hit me
The smell of freshly cut grass reached me
The sight of freedom exhilarated me
The sounds of birds intrigued me
The beauty around me radiated from everything
The long open stretches of grass
The shady woodlands going on and on
The unending number of livening creatures
The cawing raven in the tree branches
The worm busily digging in the soil
The fish swimming idly in the pond
The child playing happily in the park
It is summer now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Autumn
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are playing in the heaps of leaves
The leaves have all gone a golden colour
The ravens are searching for bugs in the leaves
The fish are swimming slower in their pond
It is Autumn now but it will soon change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Winter
I’ll still be in my tree
There are no children playing
There are no leaves on the trees
The ravens have all gone south
There are no fish in the pond
It is Winter now but it will soon change
It will soon change
It will soon change into spring
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are starting to come back
The ravens are backing cawing in the trees
There is new fish in the pond
There are new buds on the trees
It is Spring now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Summer
I’ll still be in my tree
Waiting
Watching
Writing
Thinking
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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