Late September.
When spinney wears a misty shawl.
Where colours blaze before they fall.
The sun performs just one last dance
Amid the trees for lovers' glance.
Sweet scented refuge from Eden born
As memory thumbs through pages torn,
Where Autumn hue and poetry rhymed.
Grandmother made jam,
Grandfather clock chimed.
We ploughed the fields and scattered
Help to the needy hand
On Sunday sang songs out of tune
Thanked God for the fertile land.
Late September I stand under harvest moon.
The equinox has come too soon.
The fire of youth, age quenched with tears
Now candlelight of halcyon years
Once seeds of summer, we are Autumn's ember
Just hold my hand this late September.
poem by Kevin East
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My Crazy September Love
This autumn is so sweet,
it gives me so many presents,
this autumn is my best award,
this autumn is my golden lord.
I am lost in this warm September,
my love looks like ember,
but only with tender touch
it turns into a fire and burns much.
May be it’s my last flight,
so, I will hold it very tight.
I will not wait for the spring,
I would love in this autumn to sing.
This autumn is so lucky and crazy,
my lord calls me “my daisy”,
my lord calls me “my dove”.
Thank you my crazy September love.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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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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September
Lo! a ripe sheaf of many golden days
Gleaned by the year in autumn's harvest ways,
With here and there, blood-tinted as an ember,
Some crimson poppy of a late delight
Atoning in its splendor for the flight
Of summer blooms and joys
This is September.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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A Bitter Tear
The falling leaves of autumn
lay scattered where they fall
nurturing the land with goodness
before their end days call.
Yet here we stand superior beings
or so ourselves we think
as we poison this good earth,
never giving anything back.
We take and take and take
until one day in the future
we will come to realise
the error of our ways
and all the mistakes we have made.
When one day the beauty is gone
and only a land of dust remains,
that we who should be guardians
will realise to our shame.
It will be too late
to turn back from the abyss
that we have created in our greed.
We will have ruined everything
we say we hold dear,
and then we will know
what it is like to cry a bitter tear.
Generation after generation
will have drained the world of life
and end up with nothing
to show for all their greed.
The pastures once fertile
will be barren and bare.
The forests that now team with life
will no longer be there.
Death will rear its ugly head
as the waters will be unsafe to drink
and all we will have to greet us every day
is a dry and arid land.
Unless we wake up soon
and look at the problems in hand,
we will end up alone
on a bare and lifeless land.
15 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Wind of Autumn
Wind of Autumn
Wind of autumn
Fire of summer-
Sweet girl of sixteen
Autumn without chirping
Of cuckoo in life-
Does not mean
How can the poets
Construct poetry;
If autumn remain far
Fire of summer
Looks wanton eye;
Say what you desire
Autumn knows the youth
Rainy day cloud;
O! Love rose begin.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Come September
Come September,
when two of nature's seasons live as one,
where days of summer shed their final afterglow
'ere falling gently 'neath an autumn's rising sun,
and every hanging bough and turning leaf will know ~
the green meets gold,
within the murmurings and turnings of trees
that flutter their branches in a restless dance
of impending change. Their limbs akimbo, as arms,
waving goodbye...watching autumn advance,
yet, summer pleads,
to share the days of changeling September
and clings to every breath of autumn's eve ~
spreading warmth and sultry breeze with waning movement
while knowing time grows short, and it must leave,
as beauty stays,
though, not for long, for gold becomes gold
after summer's sung her final song,
and lustrous are the days and nights made bold
with autumn's breath blowing chilly and cold ~
O'grieve September,
though, not for long, as gold turns into winter white,
then into green with 'springing' guile,
and summer's sight brings back September,
to share a season's remembered smile.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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September Changes
September is like no other
It's days change color and weather
No other month can say quite the same
For every day, I can feel the change
It's cool breezes start out warm,
Changing to cold throughout every storm
The leaves change and fall
As the Summer leaves and Autumn kisses us all
September maidens feel the change
Like the blue of the sky
Yet the color so deep
Unbelievable beauty
Maidens fall throughout and watch
Each raindropp changing through colors so fast
Yet one streak remains the same
Of that wonderful sapphire rain.
September, unlike any other
Holds you tight, in any weather.
Changes come, no matter where you go
North and you'll get stormy snow
South and feel the heat of summer coming
September does this, no matter what.
Change lives within, Nothing to stop
September is beautiful
And awesome all the same
It's hope for the future and the change
Comes swiftly as we sweep away
The Summer ends and the Autumn begins
Change is all around
With one maiden leaving
And yet, another comes
Born into the world
Of wonderful September
The sapphire skies live on
Through out this wonderful September
poem by Jessica Millsaps
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Golden Rain
Summer gleams in heated rays,
across the shimmering plain.
Awaiting autumn's cooling breeze,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
Rows and rows of harvest lay,
a bounty's sweet repose.
Fate sealed by the reaper's hand,
when the wind of autumn blows.
Shaded with a timeless hue,
day sings sweet summer's refrain.
Awaiting autumn's cooling breeze,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
Fiery flame of sun ~ now set
upon fields of summery bliss,
below horizons pinkly lit ~
by summer's parting kiss.
How fair those days of summer now.
Its warmth will not remain.
How soon the autumn ~ will take its place,
when leaves fall ~ like golden rain.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Feelings on Watching the Moon
Time hard year famine life land empty
Brothers live abroad each east west
Fields gardens few fall shield spear after
Bone flesh flow apart road road on
Hang shadow separate like 10,000 li goose
Leave root apart rise 9 autumn dishevelled
Together look bright moon should fall tear
One night home heart 5 place alike The times are hard: a year of famine has emptied the fields,
My brothers live abroad- scattered west and east.
Now fields and gardens are scarcely seen after the fighting,
Family members wander, scattered on the road.
Attached to shadows, like geese ten thousand li apart,
Or roots uplifted into September's autumn air.
We look together at the bright moon, and then the tears should fall,
This night, our wish for home can make five places one.
Autumn Love
I met her in the autumn;
When such are found, you know.
She said, 'In all her glory.'
Though joking, oh how so!
So true, I did inform her.
But then, to no surprise.
Such things are never certain
In autumn's paradise.
An autumn love, so firmly,
May grasp a loving heart;
It still may seem together,
Though broken from the start.
Through autumn, when it found me.
Through winter's frozen years.
Such love alive in springtime,
Brings forth a rain of tears.
That's why the loves of autumn
Display a special trait.
The heartbreak, comes much sooner.
The love ends, much too late.
For young love, it's more tragic.
Although it's torn apart,
The yearning never ceases
Around a virgin heart.
So when the tears of springtime
Give way and summer looms;
The autumn love, once tempting,
Ignores the soul it dooms.
And then, the autumn comes again
For young loves one and all.
Changing then, its name once more,
From autumn to the fall.
poem by Greenwolfe 1962
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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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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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0103 These late autumn days
these late autumn days
leaves fall like poems
green as new thoughts
yellow as wisdom
red as late summer love
brown as old speech
dry as the past
these late autumn days
old poets
look out at coming winter snowclouds
but hope like trees might hope, unknowing,
for a miracle of rebirth
beyond their dry boughs' reach
of words
new buds
green as
new songs
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Reunited
Let us begin, dear love, where we left off;
Tie up the broken threads of that old dream;
And go on happy as before; and seem
Lovers again, though all the world may scoff.
Let us forget the graves, which lie between
Our parting and our meeting, and the tears
That rusted out the goldwork of the years;
The frosts that fell upon our gardens green.
Let us forget the cold malicious Fate
Who made our loving hearts her idle toys,
And once more revel in the old sweet joys
Of happy love. Nay, it is not too late!
Forget the deep-ploughed furrows in my brow;
Forget the silver gleaming in my hair;
Look only in my eyes! Oh! darling, there
The old love shone no warmer then than now.
Down in the tender depths of thy dear eyes,
I find the lost sweet memory of my youth,
Bright with the holy radiance of thy truth,
And hallowed with the blue of summer skies.
Tie up the broken threads, and let us go,
Like reunited lovers, hand in hand,
Back, and yet onward, to the sunny land
Of our To Be, which was our Long Ago.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Colours of Autumn
Coppery red leaves,
Falling from trees,
That soon will be bare.
The colours of Autumn.
Piles of reddish brown,
Lying scattered on the ground.
And a chill in the air.
The colours of Autumn.
The sky is grey,
Shorter days,
And darker nights.
The colours of Autumn.
Evenings bathed in gold,
Thunderclouds so bold,
And weaker sun, not as bright.
The colours of Autumn.
poem by Amy Darnbrook
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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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Another Season Falls 1902
Another summer evening's golden link:
Neglecting Time's progression, peaceful, man
Offers appreciation. Solstice brink
Towards September readies harvest van.
Harmonious fulfillment interlink.
Expectantly tanned weatherman can plan
Resplendent Indian Summer's warming wink.
SEnsations softly scented Spring began,
AS August ends greet Autumn's sunsets pink
SO storybook in beauty feelings fan
Nature's serendipity. Stars twink.
FALL starts gilding garland trees again
Squirrels nut while rainbow colours reign.
(30 August 2009)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Love Me Now
Yesterday came back my solitude
Which through the night to brings me our days
Where the warm sea and he smiles,
Happy evening with blue stars,
Cool rain and kindly love again.
Love me now, love me now,
This is beautiful night to remember
Love me now, love me now,
This is where our romantic september
And two lonely people in the dance,
And the birds with this autumn's romance
Love me now, love me now,
Lover friend...
Eyes to eyes and hand to hand.
And somebody takes me by the hand
In old mirror I see amusing face,
But you can tell me once more
When comes memory to the door,
I regret, what part with love so sad.
Love me now, love me now,
This is beautiful night to remember
Love me now, love me now,
This is where our romantic september
And two lonely people in the dance,
And the birds with this autumn's romance
Love me now, love me now,
Lover friend...
Eyes to eyes and hand to hand.
poem by Elena Shlaferman Elena Shlaferman
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Listen to the Sunset
Listen to the Sunset
In this day going light
Tunes of some regret
Before the coming night
So much is then lost
That no one did remember
In lights of red flow rust
Of autumn in September
Special day and evening
Flowing from the ray
As the dark comes singing
In muted colors play
Bell is ringing a tune
Of melodies in gone past
In each their commune
That now to night runs fast
Listen to the Sunset
As darkness close the sky
In shading tint alphabet
When illumination colors die
So much then gets crossed
In its malleable and ember
That comes with winter gust
In autumn of red September
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Sweet September Showers
Sweet September showers,
Not quite winter yet,
Not quite Autumn either,
But Summer has definitely left.
The air contains such a chill,
Makes you shiver inside,
Yet sweet September showers,
Still in summer reside.
The night air is so frosty,
That you can see your breath.
The winds are fierce and blustery,
Don't stay out, 'You'll catch your death.'
Sweet September Showers,
Dulling the sky each day,
Delicately petalled flowers,
Fade and die away.
Victoria Elizabeth Hughes
poem by Victoria Hughes
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