Autumn leaf loss sere,
enwrapping next year's seedling,
ensures spear sprouting
(8 November 2008)
haiku by Jonathan Robin (08 November 2008)
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Dear women!
Autumn Leaf!
I couldn’t love you as I did when you were green.
Summer Leaf!
I don’t shunt you as I would when you turn yellow.
Tender Leaf!
Reap while being green and stop expecting later.
30.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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Ode to Autumn
a fervent sense of longing trails each autumn
a leaf makes a change of costume and
spirals away in a colourful farewell dance
the year makes a ceremonious bidding
before turning earth into a page of white
for us to shower our memory of each day
leaf by leaf the wind tears away autumn
orchestrating a skeletal frame to rake our
thoughts about the year, instilling the
anticipation for the comeback of another
sparkling spring, blazing summer...
autumn helps us compose the days
when we shed the clothes for a new
spring and sunbath a new shade,
a charged bodice every cell
surges in a burst of portent energy
every autumn leaves an aftertaste of
a billowing like the soothing and mellow
sounds of violin where every note comes
alive with a bright orange hue the weight
of longing and anticipation
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Pessimism
I
WHILE baby Spring sticks daisies in her hair,
Or Summer laughs with flushed triumphant face
We crush our heart rebellious at earth's grace,
And smile 'How, like the season, life is fair!'
But when the last leaf falls in the dull air,
And skies grow pale, and fields lie lost a space,
Ere their first furrow ploughs begin to trace,
And pastures shiver desolate and bare--
Oh, then one breathes; at last free from the sway
Of selfish spring--from summer's insolent reign,
One dares to speak the truth--how all life's way
Is blank as autumn skies made grey with rain,
Most blank when most the glad year bade forbear
To mar her grace with our unveiled despair.
II
NOT Spring--too lavish of her bud and leaf--
But Autumn, with sad eyes and brow austere,
When fields are bare, and woods are brown and sere,
And leaden skies weep their exhaustless grief.
Spring is so much too bright, since Spring is brief.
And in our hearts is autumn all the year,
Least sad when the wide pastures are most drear,
And fields grieve most robbed of the last gold sheaf.
For when the plough goes down the brown wet field,
A delicate doubtful throb of hope is ours--
What if this coming Spring at last should yield
Joy, with her too profuse unasked-for flowers?
Not all our Springs of commonplace and pain
Have taught us now that autumn hope is vain.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Forever Autumn
The summer sun is fading
As the year grows old
And darker days are drawing near.
The winter winds will be much colder
Now you're not here.
I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky
And one by one they disappear.
I wish that I was flying with them
Now you're not here.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away.
Through autumns golden gown we used to kick our way
You always loved this time of year.
Those fallen leaves lay undisturbed now
Cause you're not here.
Cause you're not here.
Cause you're not here.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me.
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away.
A gentle rain pours softly on my weary eyes.
As if to hide a lonely tear.
My life will be forever autumn
Cause you're not here.
Cause you're not here.
Cause you're not here.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2008
We are in 2008 and,
We are still fighting among ourselves;
This is year 2008 and,
We still kill each other with bombs!
We are in 2008 and,
We are still naked in the forest;
Year 2008 with the Olympic Games held in China and,
We still go to war!
We are in 2008 and,
We do claim to be the best of the human ever lived;
But, how many bombs have we thrown to each other?
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Autumn Song
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
poem by Dante Alighieri
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Autumn Song
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems—not to suffer pain?
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1883)
Submitted by anonym
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About November 22nd,1963...
Watching forensic post-mortems of brain-spill......from his skull
My mind echoed back to that dark November, Friday.....in '63
Chaos...ruling an autumn knoll....grey imbruing a rich pink dress
Men in black suits, and smoked ray-bans......with magnums drawn
Won't ever be a November Autumn in Dallas, like the one in '63
I remember my Father saying, he'd have voted for him....in '64
Would have been the first time (he said) , that he broke party line
It be forty-eight years this twenty-second of November....My God
Makes me realize.....this scar will forever be scored thru' the Soul's
Of those like me, a child.....yet how we matured in year's that day
From the shocking news that as mortal life....we all shared as one
Without difference to colour, culture, lifestyle, politics.......or creed
Made me mealancholy.......wondering where God's world had gone
That our Heart's 'only' be bonded.........through self-fear and travesty
Like they did, on that Autumn noon in Texas......
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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The Autumn Sing
Here’s the autumn sing…
A symphony from its falling leaf…
Catching the wind from a future winter…
Rolling through a shy light…
Oh autumn shall not die in winter…
As a promise summer will surely come….
Ah autumn is a second spring…
Not all could see, all leaf is flower….
Autumn warn a terrible winter phase….
No one listen, No one will hear it…
As it is only the sound of silence….
Who can hold an indefinite sound...?
No one embrace the autumn….
As it is only a sad phase…
It gives nothing but an autumn chill….
Spring always comes with a better glory…
Oh autumn with its broken feather…
Could other season patch it up again?
No other season will devote their being….
Autumn suffers alone….
Autumns leaf keep on falling…
Spring comes cheerfully…
Summer comes strongly….
Winter always comes coldly…..
But autumn changes its face every time….
No one knows the differences….
Just the secret of the nature…
Why can’t it’d be a spring?
Why can’t it’d be summer?
Why can’t it’d be winter?
Ah autumn dance again between all the falling leaf…
It enjoys its sadness…
It embraces its pain….
As only from autumn all painter learn…
How to capture a true hidden beauty…
All speaks the same in every season….
But autumn remain different…..
For autumn is an alone singer…
Only a genuinely soul painter could witness its beauty….
That’s all the autumn need….
A silence audience....
Who can make other being see….
A glance of its beauty...
poem by Eva Clara Harahap
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The New-Year Babe
Two together, Babe and Year,
At the midnight chime,
Through the darkness drifted here
To the coast of Time.
Two together, Babe and Year,
Over night and day,
Crossed the desert Winter drear
To the land of May.
On together, Babe and Year
Swift to Summer passed.
'Rest a moment, Brother dear,'
Said the Babe at last.
'Nay, but onward,' answered Year,
'We must farther go,
Through the Vale of Autumn sere
To the Mount of Snow.'
Toiling upward, Babe and Year
Climbed the frozen height.
'We may rest together here,
Brother Babe,-Good-night!'
Then together Babe and Year
Slept; but ere the dawn,
Vanishing, I know not where,
Brother Year was gone!
poem by John Bannister Tabb
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It's Autumn Again
It’s autumn again
Leaves whisper the sound of our past
In loss they pay a descent
To the ground we fall
It’s autumn again
Our song is sung by the wind
Echoes of loss and grief
Through chilled air we wade
It’s autumn again
The waters grow as cold as our hearts
We are alike – crusted in ice
In ourselves we freeze
It’s autumn again
Flowers vanish from our sadness
Our beauty grows weak
Covered in frost we wither
It’s autumn again
The rain falls like our tears
Can’t dry our eyes
From the sky we descend
It’s autumn again
The sun shines then fails like us
Our sight becomes a wintry gray
Lost in darkness we will fade
It’s autumn again
poem by Andrea Rieck
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Autumnal
Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.
Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.
Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.
Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Autumn'© Charudutta.Aghor
'Autumn'© Charudutta.Aghor
Miles away which make me walk,
Probes my inner feelings to talk;
Those peach red leaves ripens for a reason,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
The winds that blow thoughts in mind,
Churns and whips my feelings to grind,
Makes deep Poetic Mountain melts from rock frozen,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
Gives my skin a fleshy blush of supple,
Bliss thy leaves by tall trees of maple,
It’s the mood which liberally slips loosen,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
The squashy orange vibrant sky of sunset,
Matures my tender thought to a poetic concept,
Composes lines that rises on poetry horizon,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
Those endless streets, carpeted by crisp leaves to welcome,
The semi-storm climate, crazily eager for the next blossom,
The god’s gift which specifies, the specialty of a specially chosen,
For, Autumn I love the fall leaf season.
'Autumn'© Charudutta.Aghor.
poem by Charudutta Aghor
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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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In This Autumn Of The Year
In this Autumn of the year there be image
Pictorial earthtone's.....the artist's nirvana
Flecks of shades....bleed into each spray
Summer's closure.....sets on the causway
In this Autumn of the year there be breeze
Whisps feather past red cheeks 'n lobes
In contrast to the gusts.....of Winter's sting
Autumn flails its limbs...like colored wings
In this Autumn of the year, there be rainfall
A subtle, chilling mist.....that feeds the soil
Preparing, for the fast confronting Harvest
Showerings fall like angel-hair........tingling
In this Autumn of the year..... there be spice
A vast potpouri.....of kaleidoscopic majesty
Herbs 'n hickory smoke, from chimney tops
Country fairs and downtown sidewalk stops
In this Autumn of the year there be romance
Love that flowers in bond, of Soul and Spirit
Spirits of October....... Souls of Hallows Eve
Cornucopia of nature that's what Autumn be
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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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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Autumn leaves
In full autumn splendour the trees display
proclaiming the glory of God each passing day.
For The Divine Artist every year paints each tree
so that each person on earth His glory can see.
And when He has finished painting each one
He brings out their colour with the blazing sun.
Then using the wind to dislodge each leaf
He forms a carpet on the ground beneath.
He has given us eyes so that we can see
His glory and majesty in every tree.
Our God like an artist uses His creation
To show us of the way to His salvation.
For as the leaf fell to the ground and died
So Christ gave His life when crucified.
His blood flowed red like autumn leaves
and cleanses all who His love receives.
Forever Still
When the last leaf of Autumn
drifts quietly on to the ground,
like a blanket, snowfall softly covers
the beautiful hues that once abound
Warmth that filled our very marrow,
quickly cools to Winter's chill.
When the last leaf of Autumn
rests,
forever still
by
T. Labbe`
Winter Comes A'Calling
Oh, Winter comes a'calling
To dampen life's warming days
Spreading across the meadow
Where the last leaf of autumn lays
How sadly does the dying leaf
Flutter ~ to the frosty ground
Its glow a fading ember
Falling softly ~ without a sound
No more to see the sunrise
Above the forest ~ deeply green
Nor to treasure the glowing twilight
As it passes now ~ unseen
Oh, yes ~ Old Winter's a'calling
Where the barren trees now stand
Spreading ~ a darkened silence
With the touch of its chilly hand
The Winter brings the ending
Of our summer and autumn days
Their warm memories ~ are now buried
Where the last leaf of autumn lays......
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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