Climatical Decay
There’s a slight nip felt in the air,
And a feeling that one’s aware
Of a change now, in the seasons,
For there’s certainly many reasons.
There’s a diffusion of leaves around,
Twigs too, tumbling to the ground,
As the winds swirl, dance and tease,
Among the branches of the trees.
There’s a sharpness lingering about,
And now no one can be in doubt,
That Mr Frost is on his way,
With his sparkling white display.
There’s a sense of climatical decay,
Seen on boughs that one can survey,
Autumn’s entering upon our scene,
Giving contrast to all that's green.
There’s a golden time ahead,
Ranging from yellow and orange to red,
And the glowing warm russet shades,
Weave such rich and subtle brocades.
There’s a crispness beneath the feet,
And so summer makes its sad retreat,
Handing its plush vast arena, over to
The next incumbent, with a task to do.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Related quotes
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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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 Shades
All too soon autumn shades appear
As another summer’s end draws near.
Colors surrender to fall’s gold.
Smooth surfaces wither, warp and fold.
Amber amid bronze litters the sky
From leaves that dance and flutter by.
A few spots still hoard their green
Protesting the kaleidoscoping scene.
Sun’s yellow bows to a pale moon.
Dark night will rule the day so soon.
Brown splotches, then orange are found,
As sap hibernates ‘neath the ground.
The garden’s carpet is embossed
With remnants from an early frost,
Whose touch of icing in the night
Leaves a preview of winter’s white.
Autumn shades fade, but remember:
Rainbows spring forth from December.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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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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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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Tints, Tones And Shades
Leaves trickling down from weeping trees,
tumbling along in sprightly dance.
Gathering in heaps, as swirls the breeze,
as if it is their only chance,
to show the world what they can do,
before the winter’s snow is due.
They live for but one single year,
from birth to death, so short a span.
And yet with verve they persevere,
pushing through bark as best then can,
blanketing well each branch they dress,
giving a show to so impress.
All earth’s colours, gold, greens and browns,
red, orange, yellow, rust and black.
Rich remnants of some wondrous gowns,
all strewn now on the hard tarmac.
Autumn in tints and tones and shades.
Splendour in colourful brocades.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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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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New For Old
Bud blisters into life
Stretching for the light
Unfolding radiant green
Upturned palm to the sun
Life seeping in, breathing out
Green, Green so Green
Resurrected hope, so Green
Summer breeze stroking
Branches ebb and flow
Leaves so Green strong now
Fear not wind of change
Mellow summer turns
Green, green, green-yellow
Yellow area of dieing heart
Green lingers no more
Limp transparent yellow
Barely a breeze takes one
Fierce Hyde-like wind now
Cracking and ripping
Wind torn leaves fall
Life chords snapped
Death too early, still Green
Nourishment broken not ended
Seasons build up to tear down
To build up, to tear down
Leaves fall, Green leaves fall
And then some more
Until leaves are falling, falling
Trees and branches revealed
In the x-ray of autumn blast
Winter is coming
Winter is coming
Yellow pale yellow carpet
Beneath the naked tree
Yellow, mulchy brown
Once crisp leaves scatter
Green, yellow, transparent veins
Tired, half dead, leaves lose their grip
Join the autumn rain soaked mound
Providing new life to the roots
Old for new, New for Old
Seeds buried in death
Bring new life in Spring
In the end is the beginning.
poem by Adrian Wait
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Our Canadian Woods In Early Autumn
I have passed the day ’mid the forest gay,
In its gorgeous autumn dyes,
Its tints as bright and as fair to the sight
As the hues of our sunset skies;
And the sun’s glad rays veiled by golden haze,
Streamed down ’neath its arches grand,
And with magic power made scene and hour
Like a dream of Faerie Land.
The emerald sheen of the maple green
Is turned to deep, rich red;
And the boughs entwine with the crimson vine
That is climbing overhead;
While, like golden sheaves, the saffron leaves
Of the sycamore strew the ground,
’Neath birches old, clad in shimmering gold,
Or the ash with red berries crowned.
Stately and tall, o’er its sisters all,
Stands the poplar, proud and lone,
Every silvery leaf in restless grief
Laments for the summer flown;
While each oak and elm of the sylvan realm,
In brilliant garb arrayed,
With each other vie, ’neath the autumn sky,
In beauty of form and shade
When wearied the gaze with the vivid blaze
Of rich tints before it spread—
Gay orange and gold, with shades untold
Of glowing carmine and red—
It can turn ’mid the scene to the sombre green
Of the fir, the hemlock, the pine,
Ever-keeping their hue, and their freshness, too,
’Mid the season’s swift decline.
Though the bird’s sweet song, that the summer long
Hath flowed so sweet and clear
Through the cool, dim shades of our forest glades,
No longer charms the ear,
A witching spell, that will please as well
As his glad notes, may be found
In the solemn hush, or the leaves’ soft rush,
As they thickly strew the ground.
For, though they tell of summer’s farewell,
Of their own decay and doom,
Of the wild storm-cloud and the snow’s cold shroud,
And the days of winter’s gloom,
The heart must yield to the power they wield,—
Alike tender, soothing, gay—
The beauties that gleam and that reign supreme
In our woods, this autumn day.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Firwood
The fir trees taper into twigs and wear
The rich blue green of summer all the year,
Softening the roughest tempest almost calm
And offering shelter ever still and warm
To the small path that towels underneath,
Where loudest winds--almost as summer's breath--
Scarce fan the weed that lingers green below
When others out of doors are lost in frost and snow.
And sweet the music trembles on the ear
As the wind suthers through each tiny spear,
Makeshifts for leaves; and yet, so rich they show,
Winter is almost summer where they grow.
poem by John Clare
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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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Powdered Kaolin
Autumn’s closing in now,
leaves have dressed the ground.
Laying in heaped profusion,
so still, making no sound.
Reds and rusts are mingling,
beneath each skeletal tree.
Tumbling when the breezes blow,
off on their reckless spree.
Misty are the mornings,
bad weather’s moving in.
Frost will appear on branches,
like powdered kaolin.
October, then November,
Summer is no longer here,
Chilly days are approaching,
the last leaves disappear.
Autumn’s closing in now,
with blustery winds so cold.
But, whatever Winter brings,
Spring will again unfold.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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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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Fall Leaves Dance
Look up and they're green,
Look up and they're yellow and green.
Then they're yellow, orange, red and green.
And then most are yellow, green, orange, brown,
Masses of moving colors, dancing up and down.
Slow, colorful dances bemuse the morning breeze,
The pace quickens with the evening wind.
It's right, it's left, it's up and down,
It's east, to west, to north, to south,
Warmed and energized by the setting sun.
Squirrels race among the leaves
Doing their dance routines,
Skimming and swaying the branches,
Weighting the limbs and twigs
With buoyant starts, stops and turns.
The new season is appearing: Fall is here!
Quietly and slowly birds hop from branch to branch
Camouflaged among the leaves
That silently fall, to carpet the ground and invite
New crushing, musical rolls from children at play.
poem by Hildred Marjorie Schloss
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Crunchy Leaves Beneath my Feet
Crunchy leaves beneath my feet
Tumbling to the path
Storms blow through as autumn comes
A taste of nature’s wrath
Brilliant red, orange and yellow
Leafs that the wild wind blows
It’s nature’s way of showing us
Summer’s coming to a close
As summer turns to autumn
The crispy days revisit
A chill now in the nighttime hours
But the colors are so exquisite!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Wild Hills
Fly me across the wild hills in autumn,
With soft amber shades, brown, russet and brick,
Peach, copper and bronze all blending together,
A carpet of sadness, in this sight so tragic.
Fly me across the wild hills in winter,
With amethyst shades, puce, purple and grey,
Blue, ebony and pewter, all fusing together,
A carpet of starkness, in this scene of decay.
Fly me across the wild hills in springtime,
With pale emerald shades, sage, olive and lime,
White, yellow and silver, all mingling together,
A carpet of lushness, in this new view sublime.
Fly me across the wild hills in summer,
With magenta bright shades, pink, dark mauve and red,
Lemon, orange and gold all in harmony together,
A carpet of richness, in this panorama spread.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Seasons......
Spring brings joy and revival
The world is filled with freshness,
Sprinkle and sparkle glimpse
Sky gets painted with Rainbow;
Summer is bright and colourful
Bright yellow flowers bloom afresh,
Summer has arrived with fullness,
White, yellow, red, orange and blue;
Autumn is dusty and dry
Withering and falling old leaves,
Autumn is setting in fast
Old decay for new to arise;
Winter is cool and blissful,
Snow is pleasant surprise,
Everything is painted white,
Soon it shall melt to make way;
The cycle of Seasons goes on,
World changes with its mood.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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Autumn Fair
You long to see bright Autumn days,
With colorful leaves on yonder trees
In tones of yellow, orange and red
Before Nature's annual freeze.
The colors will burst in every direction,
The tree boughs no longer are green,
Nuts dropping to the leaf strewn ground
Where large, orange pumpkins now are seen.
You long want to see the hues of an Autumn Fair
And the bright sun rising above the distant hill.
You long feel the coolness on your cheeks,
to hear the wind's steady shrill.
Autumn waves her magic wand,
The aroma of leaves you will consume,
The enchanting days of summer are gone,
The land is overwhelmed by Nature's perfume.
There are memories of other Autumn days
That your heart will recall as you ponder,
The gigantic trees and the dropping leaves
As they gave you a special moment of wonder.
But now - you sit before a window
Watching the soft and steady precipitation,
Far from the picturesque Autumn days -
Snow accumulating without any hesitation.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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To the Trees
Nothing can tell me that the Trees don't love
In the first light of Autumn
Under golden mist
Of sun kissed days
Those leaves that turn and crunch
So crisp
These frosted memories
That slowly thaws beneath your feet
In oracles of golden russet crowns
That weave their fingers into clouds
Leave traces of a green
That lace and bud the heart with song
Of summers gone
And loves flame burning brighter
In the candle of a year now gone
And burning fires
Frozen brooks
And smoky rings
Each breath as still
As time suspended
Into space
yvette m smith oct 08
poem by Yvette Smith
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Seasons
With the spring
comes a carpet of green
that spreads out
across the land
as new growth rears its head
to meet the spring sun.
Slowly as the season folds
and summer comes along.
The colours of the rainbow
greet everyone’s eyes
along with the warm breezes
that sweep across the land.
The summer folds into autumn
and the vibrant colours
change to musty ones
as harsh winds blow
knocking leaves and petals
to the ground.
Finally, autumn closes
and winter begins again.
White fluffy snowflakes
begin to scatter on the ground.
And when winter comes to go
spring will then return
and the seasons begin all over again.
22 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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