September
September crisp nips at the furnace orange
And drizzles wet with shiver cold
With candle waxy smells that keep us warm
And light our way to this new season born
The harvest in the garden now is gone
All packed in mason jars within the shed
Now soon upon the couch to clip coupons
As earth prepares her icy brown brick bed
Behold the sweet lashed eyes of sparrows there
Flitting limb from limb in search of seed
Where oak, and elm and maple trees near bare
Dank and wet leave them for me to feed
And children in clean outfits walk to school
Eager fountains bubbling in their youth
Learning, growing, leaving rooms to cool
Where mothers think of love and need no proof
And looking through the glass out where it's grey
The smell of fresh burnt leaves remind us here
That with or without seasons a new day
Dawns in this sweet September crystal clear
poem by Sara Fielder
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Related quotes
September Sky
Cool air, September sky.
My vision bordered by trees,
Dying for the winter-
God's silent fireworks,
Brilliant reds, oranges, yellows.
There is the threat of frost in the air,
A biting chill which seeps into my clothes.
The smell of a woodstove is in the air,
Invigorating.
It is as much a part of the September sky
As the colors on the wind.
There is a stillness in the air,
Punctuated by the cries of a few lonely birds.
I look to the sky,
Clear blue, like your eyes.
I feel lost, lonely-
I am in this dream,
But you are not.
I am leaving, I know,
Leaving behind a connection of the heart
That I once was unaware of.
I am alone, September Sky.
poem by James Grengs
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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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0195 Autumn Gardener
Gathering rosebuds with my rake;
the wooden tines scraping
over the gravel path
bringing a token of order
to the autumn of a life;
rosebuds, nipped at the neck
by frost; dead leaves
curled like begging or covetous hands,
coloured like rich memories, red, orange, brown,
dry husks, spilt seed,
now crisp, eager to surrender to the fire,
its scented smoke curling like a pyre against
a cold blue sky now welcoming
a tidy offering up;
how clean, how sharp the autumn air
darker under the trees
the leaves still wet
limp and flat as hope defeated,
pressed together as
words not meant, or
something missed;
next year the leaves
will remember innocence,
the tree broader, eager,
brown as wisdom tipped with exploratory green.
gathering rosebuds with my rake
the season with its woodsmoke, evocative,
tempting to metaphor, hovering,
a garden of lost meaning;
no longer, this cooling autumn, a construction,
but speaking its own seriousness.
how clean, how sharp the autumn air
scented by surrender
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Autumn Once Again
As the days grow slowly shorter
And summer fades away
I look forward to autumn
Its cool and crispy days
Pumpkins in the patch
Waiting to be cut
Yep, it’s turned to autumn
It has a cooler touch
The chill in the nighttime
Is drying all the leaves
As they fall in the wind
From off the maple trees
It smells so sweet and earthy
So fresh and oh so clean
We bundle up in daytime
For it’s frosty while we dream
And the colors of fall flowers
Just seem to blend right in
With the orange of autumn
A lovely refreshing spin
A very special season
Is just starting to begin
For summer is now over
And it’s autumn once again!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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It Is A Warm Day For September
It is a warm day for September around the 25 degrees
The nesting birds chirping and singing with only a very faint breeze
The Goddess of Spring in her glory the pittosporums in their grey flowers
The paddocks looking lush and greener as a result of the early Spring showers
On a blackwood tree the grey shrike thrush is whistling his voice so melodious and clear
And wildflowers bloom in woods and in paddocks Spring is such a nice time of year
A very warm day for September the sun shining in the clear sky
In the wooded park by the mountain the rosellas chirp as they fly
Such beautiful parrots to look at of mottled brown and bright crimson and blue
Better known as crimson rosellas to their given names they are true
The white backed magpies and blackbirds are piping it is such a beautiful day
And the first butterflies of the Season with brown spots on their wings white to gray
Are flying in the sunlit parkland around the blossoming trees
On this warm day for September of a high of 25 degrees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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 In The Rain
1 2 2 toobidoo.
The leaves of brown
Came tumbling down,
Remember in september in the rain.
The sun went out
Just like a light,
Remember in september in the rain.
To every word
Of love i heard you whisper
The raindrops seems
To play a sweet refrain.
Thought it's spring,
To me it's still september,
Oh that september in the rain.
To every word
Of love i heard you whisper
The raindrops seems
To play a sweet refrain.
Thought it's spring,
To me it's still september,
Oh that september in the rain.
I said i said it's september in the rain.
Ah september in the rain.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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September
September approaches.
Laboring its pace,
From the haste of August
Delighting still...
With whirlwind gatherings.
September prepares...
With chopped wood,
And heat devices checked.
And fresh new experiences for some,
Beginning indoctrinations young!
Learning to start days...
With a discipline no one fully accepts,
Or expects anyone to ever crave!
Amusement parks begin to close.
Although the rollercoaster of holidays,
Will upon us all impose...
To exchange our carefree dispositions.
For the onslaught of traditions,
And schooling tuitions!
Yes...
This is the September that is known.
With a mixture of enlightenment that comes...
Textured with our groans!
As we get all of our choices set...
Remembering the quickness of September's plunge,
Can leave us cold on some days and on others in sweat!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It is Spring Time
It is Spring Time
It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.
It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.
It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.
It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.
It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.
It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.
It is spring time.
poem by Crystal Chown
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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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September Stream
Fallen to the wash
Dead leaves in September
There only to float away
A sign of seasons change
Autumnal picture postcard
In the landscape which we walk
Pathways losing shade and shelter
Bare branches rise above
Flower heads falling away
Leaving bowed stems
Tall grass and broken sticks
Leaves blown to the water
To be washed away
The world in all its movement
The world amid its change
The cycle of everything
Now seen in the dying leaves
Falling and taken away
In a September stream
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Autumn Leaves
The autumn leaves swirl to the ground in their millions.
Gold, russet, ochre, burnt umber, and deep vermillion.
Down to the ground, the dying leaves flit and flutter;
On to the grassy bank, the pathway, and into the gutter.
Some of the colours of the leaves are deep and so very rich.
Whirling along the ground, some leaves tumble into the ditch.
A thick layer of multicoloured leaves now carpets the earth,
Leaving the trees bare, in readiness, for next spring’s rebirth.
With changing leaf colours, many people love this time of year,
But, that summer is well and truly over, it is now perfectly clear.
The many colours mixed together are a magical sight to behold;
I love the shades of yellow, crimson, sienna, and ruby red, so bold.
Some leaves are mottled, with two glorious colours or more;
Adding to the fabulous display, which now lies upon the floor.
Children love nothing better, than to frolic through the fallen leaves;
When workmen collect them up, they’re left feeling very aggrieved.
Even though the weather is getting cold, the colours look so warm.
Fiery reds and oranges, and golden hues, like those of ripened corn.
Photographers find this time of year, so very evocative and inspiring;
The spectacular displays before them, they spend much time admiring.
As the season draws on, the once vibrant colours begin to dull and fade.
Soon, all that is left are brown leaves, which once boasted brilliant shades.
When leaves first change their colour, they create much admired foliage,
But with age and weather, over the coming weeks, there is much spoilage.
I love the dark green leaves, with their edges tinged with a brilliant red.
But, alas, those colours will fade, now that the leaf is no longer being fed.
The crisp, bright colours can offer cheer on even the very dullest of days,
But in our minds, we know it won’t be long before winter comes our way.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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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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September in my Mind
The smell of September fills the air
and dredges up memories once captured there.
The nip of daybreak, the moist, morning smell,
spurns forth memories from dormant dwell.
Frost capping the scape like fine sugar coat
ensures us of what time's compelled to denote.
Preserves boil away on the top of the stove,
plop, plopping with the riches retrieved from the grove.
The smell of apricot, cherry and pear,
sweet orange marmalade wafting the air,
thoughts of log fires and holiday cheer,
long awaited for a calendar year,
fills my soul and elicits thoughts tucked in my mind
as it wanders me back to a space in time.
As welcome as spring was, this changing of leaves
recounting to us what each one believes.
We rely on September filling the air to
remind every soul of what once lived there.
poem by Christine K. Trease
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The Golden Land
O SWEET September in the valley
Carved through the green hills, sheer and straight,
Where the tall trees crowd round and sally
Down the slope sides, with stately gait
And sylvan dance: and in the hollow
Silver voices ripple and cry
Follow, O follow!
Follow, O follow!-and we follow
Where the white cottages star the slope,
And the white smoke winds o'er the hollow,
And the blythe air is quick with hope;
Till the Sun whispers, O remember!
You have but thirty days to run,
O sweet September!
-O sweet September, where the valley
Leans out wider and sunny and full,
And the red cliffs dip their feet and dally
With the green billows, green and cool;
And the green billows archly smiling,
Kiss and cling to them, kiss and leave them,
Bright and beguiling:-
Bright and beguiling, as She who glances
Along the shore and the meadows along,
And sings for heart's delight, and dances
Crowned with apples, and ruddy, and strong:-
Can we see thee, and not remember
Thy sun-brown cheek and hair sun-golden,
O sweet September?
poem by Francis Turner Palgrave
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Father Winter
Welcome back home Father Winter
we have waited all year for you.
Your lovely trees, so tall
their branches now bare
they stand there waving you
back home you brought with you
your winter jewels, now they hang
on those naked branches.
The summer flowers, have
now laid down for a long winters
nap their waiting for you to cover
them with your winter blanket.
Your blanket will keep them
warm till spring then they'll
all pop up and sing.
Now all the small animals have
laid their heads down too sweet
dreams every thing will awake to
fresh new season.
You have dressed everything for
Christmas. your ice snow flakes
have landed on our pond it looks
looks like big white frosted glass
mirror it also created beautiful
glass like ornaments that
hang on the ever green trees.
Your cold fluffy snow lays upon
their branches it drapes like a
pearl necklace among their branches
they all look so lovely.
The winter clouds that you have blown
in float beneath the stars so bright
the full moon shines down upon the
hill tops all covered in your beauty.
The fresh snow glistens like stars
and silver gliter it looks like
millions of diamondseen have been
scattered on the beaten paths.
Your winter air smell so crisp
and cold as you speak, you can
see your breath in \the cold air
the only lights are from the new
full winter moon.
As you can see Father Winter has
blown, in with such briskness.
Every where you now look,
now looks bright and fresh.
Little children have started the
count down.To that special
night which is not to far off in sight.
And like ''SANTA'
You'll be gone, in the wink
of an eye.
We thank you for all the beauty
that you have given us, you'll
only last a while upon you I'll
walk a brisk mile.
We'll love you as long as you'll
last..Upon your snow we'll
dance and play.
We'll do this each cold day..
Until you melt away.
and then we'll say a sad good-bye.,
GAYLE ANNE GOFF
DECEMBER
2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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Winter's Winsome Weather
Crisp Winter, final season of the year,
Comes suddenly when awesome Autumn's past
The frost makes Winter mornings bright and clear,
But fosters Winter's biting icey blasts.
But Winter's winsomeness is also there,
The snow which hides the scars of furrowed ground,
The frost that sparkles on the hedgerows bare,
The snow that muffles harsh intrusive sound.
Ah! Winter, time of joy and peace and cheer,
Of carols chant and chimes of Christmas Bells,
The promise of 'The love that casts out fear',
The pleasure of sweet spicey Yuletide smells.
Remind us after Winter comes the Spring
When all things bright and beautiful will sing!
(John Knight - September 2009) .
Is Winter your favourite Season? If it is please post a comment saying why. In the UK we have many many parties and presents and holidays celebrating Christmas and New Year, This is to compensate for many cold and drizzly days. Despite Global Warming we stll get some snow in the North and especially Scotland where we have popular Ski Resorts. Winter in the Northern USA and Canada and Scandinavia and Russia is awesome and a great opportunity for Winter Sports and Apre-ski! People whose Birthday is on Christmas Day (DECEMBER 25) are doubly blessed because they are allowed a separate celebration on JUNE 25 in the following year. I have used capital letters for the Seasons in this poem because I think they are worth it. It is no longer de rigeur in the UK. John Knight.
poem by John Knight
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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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September Morn
I watch the World around me
As again I hear nature call
For it is the end of summertime
And the awakening of a beautiful fall.
The leaves have changed their colors
The skies became icy white
My heart becomes exceedingly joyful
At Septembers, beautiful sight.
The rustling wind has turned to cold
The leaves have changed to brown
This moment, I pray to hold
As the leaves fall onto the ground.
The squirrels scurry from their trees
The birds have all flown away
It is another September morning
I feel it with each step that I take.
With a cold wind against my back
I journey to a great tree
To pick up the jewels that she left there
An acorn, and a lonely leaf.
I shiver as I walk
With a leaf and acorn in hand
I watch fall as it arrives around me,
So happy is this man.
I then walk up unto my wife
I present her with the leaf and acorn
So happy I am with this fall,
That I give Her my September morn.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Solstice Season
S eptember's solstice season spans between
E arly autumn, winter white. Sun leaves
P hoto's synthesis as summer grieves
T he passing cusp preparing sharper sheen.
E ase, orchards fruitful as boughs heavy lean,
M ature is corn, horn plenteous spills, achieves
B ounty's harvest bundling golden sheaves.
E xpectant breeze wave teases trees. Some glean
R emaining grains from fields whose yield has been
S pecial blessing granted as time weaves
EPhemeral rings beneath rough bark, conceives
TEMpting joys cocooned till Spring's springs clean
BEyond restraints, bears promise, year reborn,
Restoring hope as cycles spin fresh dawn...
(Acrostic sonnet SEPTEMBER SEPTEMBER /11 September 2007)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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