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Trees of Darkness

The trees of darkness are tall, wise and livid with rage,
A cheese slice is covering our eyes then the tree-cage.
Black trees are not yellow, red and orange
But the slice of fun moved like a lunge.
I plunge into leaves of Autumn, faults of time,
Carrying my food with my mouth and crime.
Trees grow forward in time, and we shall be divine
In different places, diverse views are taken to align.
Dark places will spoil the view and place,
But why do some people define this space?

poem by Naveed Akram
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A Golden Memory

When I was a young child
about five to seven years of age.
I noticed the neighbour's trees
were dirty and sooty and black.
Black with smoke chimney coal dust.

The bark was ugly dirty and black
the leaves were ugly dirty and black.
And barely green if at all in most places,
except a little on the side facing the sun.
The sun I saw as a beautiful yellow light.

Next to my father's garage grew these trees.
They were really tall shrubs, but I was but still
a young child, with much to learn in this world,
ruled by mean men. Magic and the elfin language,
still danced like sparkling stardust in my eyes.

Next to my father's garage grew these trees.
They were so sad dull black lifeless and ugly.
I took a bright yellow lively house paint.
And painted the trees yellow bright golden yellow,
in all sad places I could short armed easily reach.

But I also got paint on my hands face clothes.
In my wonderful joy I got paint on my clothes.
My apparently best going to town best clothes.
My mother punished me for painting the trees.
And the leaves a bright joyous yellow colour.

For making a small part
of this dull adult world.
A golden magical shinning
bright fairy glade place.

For painting making a small part
of this dull adult fading world.
A golden orb magical shinning
bright mystical fairy glade place.

For trying to make the tired
world a better magical place.
Thus were childhood dreamers
often beaten into submission.

By those who failed to see
the divine presence in dreams.
By those who failed to see
the magical sparkle in dreams.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Pleasant Autumn Day

A pleasant Autumn day of wind and sunshine
And yellow leaves depart their trees and fall
To Mother Earth who silently receives them
And wattlebirds on flowering gum trees call.

On this quiet side street of inner suburbia
The leaves are dying on the deciduous tree
But were i a poet I'd put my pen to paper
And write of the great beauty that i see.

For Nature's beauty can be found in strangest places
Far from the countryside it can be seen
Deciduous trees are golden brown in Autumn
And gums and wattles rich and evergreen.

And many urban people too love Mother Nature
And of workings of Nature there is much to know
They love to hear the birds sing in their gardens
And take pride in plants and trees they helped to grow

I respect those who respect Mother Nature
The damage done to her they try to mend
For Nature brings her beauty to all Seasons
And to every Nature lover I'm a friend.

In quiet side street in inner suburbia
Deciduous leaves to Mother Earth drift down
And wattlebirds are calling on the gum trees
And Mother Nature too lives in the town.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Falling Leaves (leaves me pondering)

Little orange leaves
Gathered and quaking,
Upon the tree
The wind is shaking -
Where will you go, oh little ones
When you fall?
- I was hoping you'd take me with you
To the realm beyond it all -

There is a dream in my soul,
Of such far away places to go;
Where all the fallen leaves
Return to the original trees;
Where the questions of autumn
Are finally understood,
And we come to see
In the end, all is good.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Waiting for Autumn

WAITING FOR AUTUMN

In my place, autumn comes near Christmas
Far less of the day and more of the night
I have always longed to see it

The leaves of autumn and its gloom
Cry with me. The sky
Its golden and orange color
Speak of my soul

In autumn are times my heart seeks for you
I can hear your breath
In the circles of fog that color the wind

When your eyes meet with mine
It speaks a language we both couldn’t understand
But of efflorescence of dawn in the coals that fade
In the calm of autumn

Outside my little hut
I see the roses fall like sakura
Each petal fall like a teardropp that you wipe away

My words pile up a heap of dried leaves
In front of the grotto, waiting
I’d sit on a log, till the hymn of the evening rings

One by one you come and go
In the shade of stars and clouds, and the time I hold in my hand
A time I would not lose
Until the hours are nailed rainbows on my chest

Autumn, is my womb that grows a child
The white snow that hugs the old big roots of giant trees
Covering it safely, until it melts,
They are together

I know it will take a long time
To grow again, another tree
My tears fall on the earth
Burying the next seeds

Now the windows are filled with light
Illumined with trees stretched in abundance
Begging the sky

My womb, the earth’s womb

Waiting.

rosalinda flores martinez,2009
http: //roseprayers.blogspot.com

poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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A measured beauty: the Japanese mind

Between the high grey residential block
and the busy, noisy Japanese street
there’s a small park: three tall trees
in a broad bed of grey slate chips;

this autumn afternoon, the trees
have shed their golden-yellow leaves
over the grey ground; the gardener
has carefully brushed them with his wooden broom
off the chips, and into tidy golden rings
around the bases of the trees;

as if the leaves were gathered in some joyful ceremony
of gratitude, respect, and friendship; not farewell,
but time dissolved into a circled beauty;

the passers-by note this timeless act of worship;
share this with the others as they pass,
politely glancing towards strangers;
meeting, respectfully, not their eyes,
but, as leaves to trees, their heart.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Medea and I were in love

I woke up and the world
was just the same
The trees are green
but the trees were always green

I had slept for a length of time
and the sky remained
and the stars
but they were always there

In mind I had an idea
A super crime
I dreamt about Medea
I dreamt about the time
Medea and I were in love
If I were able to alter time

If I woke up the world
would it be the same
With the trees green
but the trees were always green

Silent train journey through my mind
Of all places to go

Secretive passenger what is it that you hide
That at a crossing matters so

Like a whistle in the distance
An attraction to a child

I hear the excitement in the voices
But there is a man waving a red flag at the mouth of the tunnel

Silent train I will not let you into the darkness
I will not let go

Go back out again to the world
where this line stops and the rest of the world begins

poem by Lindsay Crosby
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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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The places that are most likely to grow trees for carbon sequestration are places where trees aren't growing now.

quote by Robert Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Autumn

(10/13/11)

The autumn leaves falling on the ground
The autumn leaves of yellow, orange and brown
The trees like a rainbow of colors
Such as this there is no other.
My friends would climb up the smallest trees
And shake the leaves down to me.

then the leaves are raked up and placed in a large pile
Children diving in and laughing all the while.
The crispy crunch that you hear
Sends the chills through your ears.

The autumn leaves reminding us
That Halloween was very near
Where we could dress up and create some fear.

But for now we would have our fun
Chasing each other with our water guns
Diving into leaves of gold and brown
Hoping that we wouldn’t be found.

The park keeper was as happy as can be
From raking the leaves he was free.
He would pick them up and putting
Them into the metal cans- and the smell
Of burning leaves would fill the air
Letting people know that autumn was here.

(memories are made of this- like the song)

poem by Louis Rams
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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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You and Yellow Air

YOU, AND YELLOW AIR by John Shaw Neilson
I dream of an old kissing-time
And the flowered follies there;
In the dim place of cherry-trees,
Of you, and yellow air.

It was an age of babbling,
When the players would play
Mad with the wine and miracles
Of a charmed holiday.

Bewildered was the warm earth
With whistling and sighs,
And a young foal spoke all his heart
With diamonds for eyes.

You were of Love's own colour
In eyes and heart and hair;
In the dim place of cherry-trees
Ridden by yellow air.

It was the time when red lovers
With the red fevers burn;
A time of bells and silver seeds
And cherries on the turn.

Children looked into tall trees
And old eyes looked behind;
God in His glad October
No sullen man could find.

Out of your eyes a magic
Fell lazily as dew,
And every lad with lad's eyes
Made summer love to you.

It was a reign of roses,
Of blue flowers for the eye,
And the rustling of green girls
Under a white sky.

I dream of an old kissing-time
And the flowered follies there,
In the dim place of cherry-trees,
Of you, and yellow air.

poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Color Me Autumn

Clouds and glooms hang
Sunshine nowhere in sight.
Herein lies an autumn mood.
Daylight shorter and shorter,
darkness longer and longer,
trees know winter is nigh.

Fallen amber leaves make beds
bare trees-limbs just
as empty as my arms.
Green leaves disappeared,
yellow and orange appears.

Color despair and sadness
with a coat of autumn
Making winter the etching;
make spring the oil painting and
Autumn a mosaic of them all…
What luminous work of art!

poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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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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Autumn Leaf Fall

Colourful leaves fall through the air,
Red, orange and yellow.
The ones on the ground start to rot,
Black, brown and purple.
Some get caught in the winter bared trees,
Gold, green and silver.
Leaves of the autumn,
The autumn rainbow,
These are the colours of the autumn leaf fall.

poem by Thistle Wargul
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Turning Leaves

Red, red, red
Right ahead,
Yellow, yellow like the sun,
Through the leaves run,
Orange, orange many trees,
Blowing in the breeze,
A few evergreens,
Many autumn scenes,
Walk along a stream,
Seems as a dream,
Add blue and white,
A bird in flight,
Climb to the top,
Seems the forest never stop,
From the tower view,
Only get a clue,
Sunset indigo and violet,
If only for a bit,
Walk among the leaves,
Feel the fall breeze.

poem by Fritzner Erauda
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Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves, in the trees
Falling to the ground
Colors of many, in the breeze
Of red and orange and brown.
Rainbow parks in the dark
Moonlight shimmers down
On the leaves, from the trees
Falling to the ground.
Lovers walk, hear them talk
To where Children played
See the beauty, and feel the warmth
From where nature stayed.
Barren trees, forgotten leaves
Another year gone by
All alone from a breeze
As the lovers softly cry.
Autumn leaves from the trees
Lying, on the ground
See the beauty, feel the warmth
And hear, autumns sound.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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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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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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Where Trees Are, I Am!

Just trees will grow in shapes that please,
My shapes do grow like limbs;
Eyes see, ears hear - abilities!
But trees possess just whims.

Where trees are, I am! So you are
The one with limbs, the one
Who swears with words always bizarre,
Phrases of prediction.

The plants called trees are super-wise,
The stalks are trunks profound,
Their limbs and roots also advise,
The trees are aboveground.