The Haunted Haven
Beyond the woods
The branching oak and canopy of leaves still abide
The bench is there
The leaves still fall
The cree still flows beneath the trees
The difference is
The oak is baren
The shiny bench is covered in moss
The leaves now lie beneath my feet
The place now lacks the presence of life
Though our laughter still echoes
Haunting the place of our childhood haven
poem by Humna Hamid
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Winter With a Question
The aging trees will creak and groan
To find themselves ringed by frost in sleep
And snow by the wind already blown
Cast upon snow already deep.
The cold is echoed only by silence all,
And the leaves of Autumn entombed in white
At the place where leaves fall
And passing time, vanish from sight.
Who is it that judges these—
Sends leaves beneath the snow
And trees to shiver alongside trees? —
And where do they go?
poem by Ronny Self
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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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One summer when the wind was strong
This is the place, now we are here again
I remember that summer when the wind was strong
And everything around us was dry,
The acacia trees towered and showered us with
Round leaves falling and falling and falling
Some birds were there and they flew away
Some cars were there and they speeded away
It was getting dark and it was a dry summer
We stayed there for a while when the leaves fell
Then we went under the trees not seeking shelter
But to catch those leaves falling and falling and falling
We are trying to feel again what falling was
We are here on this summer, we see the leaves
Falling and falling again to the dry wind,
We try to recall about us, but there is simply
Nothing about us anymore, but just the same
The leaves fall and fall and fall, we see them reenacting
There is that meaning; there it is in the falling
But we have outgrown it, we look for more, we hope
We can find some more, something beyond us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The First Scene Of Childhood
the first scene
is white. Against the snow
trees without leaves
beneath their feet
are the fallen
leaves,
red,
the air is cold, and howling
no one lives here
anymore.
do not go there,
it can make you like myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The Leaves Come Falling Down
I saw you standing with the wind and the rain in your face
And you were thinking bout the wisdom of the leaves and their grace
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
And at night the moon is shining on a clear, cloudless sky
And when the evening shadows fall Ill be there by your side
When the leaves come falling down
In september when the leaves, come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place beside the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space before the twilight and the dawn
Oh, the last time I saw paris in the streets, in the rain
And as I walk along the boulevards with you, once again
And the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
Follow me down, follow me down, follow me down
To the place between the garden and the wall
Follow me down, follow me down
To the space between the twilight and the dawn
And as Im looking at the colour of the leaves, in your hand
As were listening to chet baker on the beach, in the sand
When the leaves come falling down,
Woe in september, when the leaves come falling down
Oh when the leaves come falling down
Yeah in september when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down
In september, when the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falling down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
When the leaves come falting down in september, in the rain
When the leaves come falling down
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holly Leaves And Christmas Trees
Somewhere in, in the distant night
I hear Christmas bells
The gentle snow keeps falling down on people
Who are homeward bound
That's the it's always been
The circle really never ends
Christmas seems to come and go
From the place that I don't know
Holly leaves and Christmas trees
It's that time of year
Lights aglow and mistletoe
Don't mean a thing when you're not here
As I walk, walk this lonely street
The sound of snow beneath my feet
I'll think of how it used to be
Holly leaves and Christmas trees
Use to mean so much to me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death beneath my feet
The dead brown maple leaves litter the path
Where I walk. Others of its kind dropping
From their lofty homes, victims of the wrath
Of autumns chilling gales, unrelenting
And tellingly- stark reminder of death-
Companion through life all of us must face.
I tread over brittle corpses beneath
My feet in their final resting place
And I am reminded of my sister
Poor soul! Who died one chilly October.
I remember the maple leaves that stirred
Around my feet that day she was interred.
Lifeless entities swirling, hurling down
Atop her casket deep beneath the ground.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Once Upon An Autumn Day
Once Upon an autumn day,
Colorful leaves began to fade
In the midst of a chilly, frosty air
As multitude of trees grew steadily bare.
Once upon an autumn day,
The whispering breeze was here to stay
Moving aimlessly through the countless trees
Scattering leaves with the greatest of ease.
Once upon an autumn day,
The leaves whirled freely in every way,
Until at last they came to rest
Finding a haven in which to nest.
Once upon an autumn day,
The trees were dormant, and the leaves lay
Waiting for the winter snow to fall
To quickly obscure them one and all.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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In Hardwood Groves
The same leaves over and over again! They fall from giving shade above To make one texture of faded brown And fit the earth like a leather glove. Before the leaves can mount again To fill the trees with another shade, They must go down past things coming up. They must go down into the dark decayed. They must be pierced by flowers and put Beneath the feet of dancing flowers. However it is in some other world I know that this is way in ours.
poem by Robert Frost
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Holly Leaves & Christmas Trees
(words & music by red west - glen spreen)
Somewhere in, in the distant night
I hear christmas bells
The gentle snow keeps falling down on people
Who are homeward bound
Thats the its always been
The circle really never ends
Christmas seems to come and go
From the place that I dont know
Holly leaves and christmas trees
Its that time of year
Lights aglow and mistletoe
Dont mean a thing when youre not here
As I walk, walk this lonely street
The sound of snow beneath my feet
Ill think of how it used to be
Holly leaves and christmas trees
Use to mean so much to me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River Flows
The river flows and moss grows
And I dangle my feet in the water
The water is cold, but so is my heart
As I sit and just watch time goes by
No place I have to go, no place to be
Time has passed too fast, as fast as the river flows
Who else has sat here and felt this way
Felt pain in their heart and soul
They don't understand, did they ever?
All the hurt down deep in my soul
The leaves sway with the wind
And the chill sets in
I know I must leave, I don't know where
Guess I'll find my way down the road
With tears in my eyes and a broken heart
I'll find my way back to somewhere
The river flows on and the moss will keep growing
Till someone else sits here
And remembers things like I do
And wish I had them all back
I leave in the night, goodbye to the river and moss
May each persons who comes this way
Find a peace inside like I did but on the way
I'll always remember that the river flows on and the moss grows.
Written by Jo Carey
George Edmunds' Song
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood's day,
Thick clust'ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay-
How faded are they now!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here;
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
Wither'd leaves, wither'd leaves, that fly before the gale:
Withered leaves, withered leaves, ye tell a mournful tale,
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around me here!
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!
poem by Charles Dickens
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Paradise Valley
can't think straight my mind is covered with clouds
no doubt what I'm talking about;
I've never seen a place like this I miss no bliss
how could I ever forget how it feels, how it heals,
my wound, my blood, whatever pain my soul has got
these waters so clear
near and far all I can hear
rustle of leaves and insects hummin on trees
no place like this - no place like this
paradise valley
the sun reflects some billion glitters of water
direct in my face but I can't take my eyes of this place
so peaceful, beautiful, it flows all into one
meadows, mountains, I, the sky
so close I can never feel to gods own miracle
and then I see, I see that eagle fly
no place like this - no place like this
paradise valley
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shallow Thoughts...
along the shores
where the salty vines have covered our tracks
the coconuts are growing tall
and being so nearly planted
their leaves reach for each other
in a little distance
the heaps of dry leaves and husks
make a mountain
and now covered by the vines
and so concealed
beyond this place is a grass-less space
it is where most of the strangers stay
the mass of people gather
and bask under the sun
the gates here are closed more often
there are no kids
neither are there old people who take
their leisure here
this is my own place
so private and so deserted
i would like to call it another solitude
but the coconut trees without nuts
on this rainy December
signify otherwise
it is lonely, the hut speaks.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A lane in England
In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.
Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.
In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road
and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road
and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Forward planning
Bright autumn leaves like butterflies
are gaily dancing in the breeze.
Until they fall; no more to rise
and coat the ground beneath the trees.
In carpets of rich autumn hues
Which will soon fade to neutral brown.
The time has come for trees to lose
their leaves and cast them down.
As they prepare for winters rule.
Returning to the earth again
their useless leaves to use a fuel.
Which when spring comes will help sustain.
The sudden burst of energy
that is required by every tree.
Saturday,11 September 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Leaves
The leaves are falling one and one,
Each like a life to me,
As over-soonly in the sun
They spiral goldenly:
So airily and warily
They falter free.
The leaves are falling two and two,
Beneath a baleful sky;
So silently the sward they strew,
Reluctantly they die . . .
Rich crimson leaves,--and no one grieves
There doom but I.
The leaves are falling three and three
Beneath the mothlike moon;
They flutter downward silverly
In muted rigadoon;
And russet dry remote they lie
From feathered tune.
The leaves are lying numberless,
Disconsolately dead;
Where lucent was their sylvan dress
And lightsome was their tread,
They rot below the bitter snow,
Uncomforted.
A leaf's a life, and one by one
They drift each darkling day;
Rare friends who lusted in the sun
Are frailing fast away . . .
How sadly soon will mourn the moon
My dark decay!
poem by Robert William Service
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A Time For Us To Be Lazy On A Silent Sunday
time to be alone
on a bench under the trees
time to see how leaves fall
silently on the grass
as the world watches us
in mutual
idleness
this is what lazy Sunday is all about
doing nothing
reconstructing the pieces of
the past week.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Place To Sit
Smoochers and snoggers, and resting joggers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Ramblers and walkers, and street hawkers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Mini’s and Roller’s, and lady strollers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Old folk and young folk, and dogs with no folk
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Market traders and cavers, and money savers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Children that play who meet everyday
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Students and teachers, and lay preachers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Loose women and boys the ‘for sale’ toys
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Addicts and dealers, and police squealers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Dogs out for a pee who can’t find a tree
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Drunks in the night who like to fight
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Spray painters and doodlers, and bench abusers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Vandals and hooligans, and booted ruffians
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Demolishers and breakers, and obliterators
never stopped until they destroyed this concrete bench.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Afraid Its Too Late
She sits at the window
All dressed in white
Been a long time since shes cried
Tears called ....tumbling down
She remembers her childhood brown
Shes afraid its too late
She steps out on the porch
Takes a minute from her day
Just like when she was a child
To listen what the wind would say
She was carefree like the children are today
Say, ? ? loves you, wont you come out and play
Shes afraid its too late
When she was a child
She had crowns hiding gold
With such awe, each flower she did hold
And she...the grass beneath her feet
How she hated things that were already late
They took away her laughter
They took away her crown
They said hey girl, you gotta keep your feet on the ground
She said oh, but they are
They say well laughter wont pay your bills
A flower fell from her hand, falling still
They taught her to be respectable
Responsible somehow
They taught her to be in every....
She forgot how it felt to have leaves of grass beneath her feet
Now every thought screams to return to her childhood royalty
Shes afraid its too late
She takes one last moment
Before going inside
She takes a coat
To dry her eye
She ... and it all becomes clear
Its probably laughter that gets you what you need
....more than here
Shes afraid its too late
La la la la
La la da da laaah
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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