Four Seasons
Summer is sadly on the wane,
As, cool autumn creeps on stage.
The nights begin to impart a chill,
And strong winds go on the rampage.
Darkness sneaks in on us early,
As our evenings invite twilight,
Then we wake up to a greyish dawn,
Following a long and obscure night.
The dying season, is slowly turning,
The leaves to bright copper tones,
Each swooping down, to cover,
The heavily, moss clad, flagstones.
Thus preparing us all for winter,
Putting the whole earth to sleep,
Until our next spring awakens,
And new shoots begin to peep.
These four seasons give us pleasure,
In their own individual way,
The joy of each one's beginning,
The sad ending of each one's display.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Nature's Season's
Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,
Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,
Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,
By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,
Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,
And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,
And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

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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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Winter
Autumn leaves blow around
slowly Winter creeps on forward
bringing an icy chill to the air.
Frost in the morning carpets the fields
above the Blue skies change to Grey
darkness moves on in early.
As winds whistle a song in the trees
below Squirrels squabble with birds over food
Snowdrops pop their heads out of the earth.
This is Winter the cold season
the prelude to Spring
to some harsh and bleak
others very beautiful.
poem by Kevin Halls

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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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Infatuation
Infatuation is a temporary
emotion. It is ever fleeting,
as a cloud drifting by
As if a tree developing buds.
Their green leaves turn gold,
then brown, finially a wind
blowing them to the ground.
As they lay there, they
return to the earth and they
are gone.
They are ever changing like the
seasons, warm, hot, cool, and
cold.
Cool in Spring, warming up for
the Summer heat and passion.
But as the cool winds of Autumn
begin to blow, they tend to cool
and prepare for the icy chills
of Winter.
So like a lady changing her
attire. Putting on and taking
off her make-up. Ever changing,
so like infatuation
poem by Heather Burns

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Spring: New Beginnings
I have always loved the heralding of spring,
When the spell of youth is cast upon everything.
Gardens everywhere awaken from their sleep,
As the sun, from behind the clouds, does peep.
Leafy green shoots begin to sprout.
Flowers begin to pop their heads out.
Yellow daffodils stand proud and tall,
But, sadly, are gone in no time at all.
The sweet smell of blossom on the trees,
Wafts down from above on the gentle breeze.
Buttercups and daises are abundant everywhere
And the buzz of flying insects fills the warm air.
The season heralds a bright new dawn.
Baby birds and animals are being born.
The days are beginning to get progressively longer
And the sun's rays are beginning to shine stronger.
There's a sense of hope at this time of year,
Bringing with it, some much needed cheer.
It's heartening to know that summer is around the corner,
When the weather will grow increasingly warmer.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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So Right To Begin
When Autumn comes to go to show,
Just how beautiful this season can be!
And leaves that fall from the trees,
Vivid and bright...
Cools those nights enjoyed peacefully.
So right to begin,
Anticipated holidays.
So right to begin,
A festival of feasts.
and so right to begin,
Preparing for a new year...
As an old one ends.
So right to begin,
Anticipated holidays.
So right to begin,
A festival of feasts.
and so right to begin,
Preparing for a new year...
As an old one ends.
When Autumn comes to go to show,
Just how beautiful this season can be!
And leaves that fall from the trees,
Vivid and bright...
Cools those nights enjoyed peacefully.
And so right to begin,
Preparing for a new year...
As an old one ends,
to welcome fresh beginnings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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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
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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The Chill Of An Early Fall
Well her old friend, from her own end of town dropped by today,
And way down deep inside me something died
When he came 'round to see her that way.
Here it comes again, that same old chilly wind
Will blow like a cold winter squall.
And I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
And I'll be drinking again and thinking whenever he calls,
There's a storm coming on, it won't be too long till the snow falls.
Oh I'll be sobersome,
But when October comes and goes and no time at all
I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh how quick they slip away, here today and gone tomorrow.
Love and seasons never stay, bitter winds are sure to follow.
Now there's no doubt, it's gonna be cold out tonight;
I've shivered all day, and when I look in her eyes
Needing to hold her so tight, she just looks away.
Oh she'll swear that it's true, he's just someone she knew
Long ago, and I'll know that's not all,
And I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh I'll begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
song performed by by George Strait

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chill Of An Early Fall
Well her old friend, from her own end of town dropped by today,
And way down deep inside me something died
When he came round to see her that way.
Here it comes again, that same old chilly wind
Will blow like a cold winter squall.
And Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
And Ill be drinking again and thinking whenever he calls,
Theres a storm coming on, it wont be too long till the snow falls.
Oh Ill be sobersome,
But when october comes and goes and no time at all
Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh how quick they slip away, here today and gone tomorrow.
Love and seasons never stay, bitter winds are sure to follow.
Now theres no doubt, its gonna be cold out tonight;
Ive shivered all day, and when I look in her eyes
Needing to hold her so tight, she just looks away.
Oh shell swear that its true, hes just someone she knew
Long ago, and Ill know thats not all,
And Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
Oh Ill begin to feel the chill of an early fall.
song performed by by George Strait

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Darkness Awakens Into Spring
Dreary cold Days are gone
Awesome how the trees begin budding
Ravishing is the beauty the
Easter lilies along the fences
Caddy dids and crickets begin
There Sweet Song as the
Darkness awakens into Spring
Now the birds are beginning to
build there nest high in the trees
Preparing for there young
Every now and then you can hear a
Frogs Croak and a big ribit
From time to time sweet smell of
spring is in the air as the
Darkness awakens into Spring
Angelic is the spring air
Wonderful how the tree and flowers
Awaken to the suns beautiful light
As I am sitting here in my window
I watch as a little family of Cardinals
begin to make the trees in my
Back yard there home every year
They return here to build their
nest for their young
As the Darkness Awakens Into Spring
By Melissia Ann Senter
poem by Melissia Ann Senter

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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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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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When September Arrives, Again
September arrives and Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
September arrives,
And the sky loses brightness.
Winds start to whip...
Leaves off of trees.
I use to wonder,
Why I heard thundering...
As it rained to bring a change to things.
September seems erratic and dramatic.
Shifting as it does...
To prepare all for the Winter.
Children return to school,
As cool winds descend.
September has come back,
Again...
So quickly.
September arrives,
And Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
When September arrived.
And Autumn began,
With winds again.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
As Autumn began,
With winds again to begin.
When September arrived.
When September...
Arrived!
When September,
Arrives...
Again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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I don't often write
I don't often write about the seasons
how the newly budding flowers melt my heart.
I seldom dwell on heat or summer madness,
of how long warm evenings mellow darker thoughts.
Autumnal leaves blow gently over parchment
just like the summer kisses we once shared
and so I dare not speak about the Autumn
for I know that I would cry and that I'm scared.
Winter is so cold and brings the darkness,
within it, misty days and frosty nights,
bringing thoughts of you, my precious lover
and dreams about your sunny face at night.
I don't often write about the seasons
and now I realise why I never do.
It's because with every season comes a memory
and that memory, most often, is of you.
poem by Ruth Walters

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Death Series 8 - Falling Leaves
The trees stood tall through early months,
and without hindrance they staked their claim,
'til autumn’s harsh indifference came.
Summer had it's blissful time,
Until autumn’s ending date,
revealing - that autumn is never late.
The season shall begin it’s work,
Turning all to deepest gold,
Taking life, changing young to old.
It shall write a grievous story,
That contains the most final of endings,
Pen poised, it starts the final chapters
To usher in winter’s restful ending.
poem by Ciaran Quirke

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Seasons of the Heart
The different hues that deck the earth
All in our bosoms have their birth;
'Tis not in the blue or sunny skies,
'Tis in the heart the summer lies!
The earth is bright if that be glad,
Dark is the earth if that be sad:
And thus I feel each weary day-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
In vain, upon her emerald car,
Comes Spring, 'the maiden from afar,'
And scatters o'er the woods and fields
The liberal gifts that nature yields;
In vain the buds begin to grow,
In vain the crocus gilds the snow;
I feel no joy though earth be gay-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
And when the Autumn crowns the year,
And ripened hangs the golden ear,
And luscious fruits of ruddy hue
The bending boughs are glancing through,
When yellow leaves from sheltered nooks
Come forth and try the mountain brooks,
Even then I feel, as there I stray-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
And when the winter comes at length,
With swaggering gait and giant strength,
And with his strong arms in a trice
Binds up the streams in chains of ice,
What need I sigh for pleasures gone,
The twilight eve, the rosy dawn?
My heart is changed as much as they-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
Even now, when Summer lends the scene
Its brightest gold, its purest green,
Whene'er I climb the mountain's breast,
With softest moss and heath-flowers dress'd,
When now I hear the breeze that stirs
The golden bells that deck the furze,
Alas! unprized they pass away-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
But when thou comest back once more,
Though dark clouds hang and loud winds roar,
And mists obscure the nearest hills,
And dark and turbid roll the rills,
Such pleasures then my breast shall know,
That summer's sun shall round me glow;
Then through the gloom shall gleam the May-
'Tis winter all when thou'rt away!
poem by Denis Florence MacCarthy

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Rhythms Of Life
Everything has a rhythm
that puts music in the air.
The morning with its bird calls
awakening everywhere.
The yawns of the waking
as they greet a new day.
The afternoon rhythm
is smiling faces to be seen,
especially while the sun
is high up in the sky
mingled with laughter
from children as they play.
The evening rhythm
is of the close of day
as the voices of the night
begin to appear.
A gentle breeze cools the air
to end another day of rhythms
before they all begin again.
The seasons have their rhythms too;
the spring with its new life
from the earth begins to grow.
The summer with its warmth
and bright colours, begin to show.
The autumn as the year
begins to die away.
The falling of the leaves nurture the soil.
Then the winter’s rhythm comes in play
with the cold winds that blow
and the bringing of the snow.
It is the rhythm of the closing of the year
and so the rhythms of life
go on everyday.
19 September 2008
poem by David Harris

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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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Unbroken cycle. for M lady Ernestine
Englyn Prost Dalgron.
Seasons come and seasons go.
Summer sun or winter snow.
That is all we need to know.
Winter is replaced by spring.
Summer ripens everything.
Autumn will the harvest bring.
When the harvests gathered in
Safely stored in box and bin
Then the winter will begin.
Nature brooks no argument.
She carries out her intent.
With or without our consent.
Spring, Summer and Autumn too.
Each has its own job to do.
Perfectly planned in my view.
Monday,11 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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