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A Autumn Tree

Gazing at the lawn outside;
Mind captivated with romantic thoughts;
The tree, enchanted eyes of whom ever it met;

Her slender bark enduring the perils of nature;
Tinted leaves feared at the sight of the autumn wind;
Sleek branches ready to redress in snow;

The crescent clasped by her and held high
Autumn blossoms tantalized anyone who passed by
A mere glance at her, Mother Nature is personified.

poem by Lakshmi Venkataraman
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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.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Since That Is Nature's Way

By their deciduous mother tree on the grass they do lay
The brown leaves of the Autumn have gone to decay
The magpie is piping in the dawn cool and gray
And life it goes on since that is Nature's way
Like her Seasons her life forms to Nature come and go
Yet so little of her ways we can claim to know
I marvel at the wonders in Nature I see
But Nature remains as a mystery to me
The beauty in Nature is ours to enjoy
I first fell in love with her as a young boy
And though the father of time mercy for us don't show
My wonderment of her only seems to grow
The brown leaves of Autumn lay near their mother tree
And the fate that befell them is also for me.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Autumn’s Glow

There is something about autumn
That brings out such earthiness
Gold leaves adorn bushes and trees
Like an artist with a brilliant brush

Once the leaves dry on the trees
Then the wind begins to blow
It’s a special time of year for me
Because I love autumn so

The cold dry air it seems
Prepare the leaves to fall
Mother Nature’s special time
Yes, it’s the best of all

What a dazzling way to end
The year as winter nears
The way leaves let loose
And dropp like nature’s tears

Oh yes, I love those golden days
Dreamy with autumn’s glow
It makes me smile because I do
Love the season of autumn so!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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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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Mist Upon the Placid Morn

Bleed out your beauty, Autumn –
Give up a gentle wrist, and smear
Your bloody hues atop the green.

Cast a calming throw of heady peace
Upon the cooling land.
And as you grant the sun a final fling of warmth,
Charge the silent air
(Now lolling on a foliar deathbed)
With earthen whiff to intimate the fungal push.

Soon you’ll send a shiver down the watery spine of
Quivering ponds, punctual brooks, and
Listless lakes, to warn them of the freeze to come.

Behold! your mellow spirit
Hanging as a mist upon the placid morn –
A sight that draws a sneaking tear or two – forlorn
Observers are we all of colder climes to view!

Autumn Lady, must you be the summer waning –?
Our adieu to fairer-weather life?
Ah well, at least you hum a warming tone, ensuring
Nature’s rhythm still abounds.

But now you must prepare the mind for chilly times –
You know the drill –
Guiding us along a sloping path
To ease our psyche in to sleet and snow –
The blue-ice bite of winter.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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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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Gaia’s Plan

Please, don’t sweep the leaves away –
Their essence gives to life’s decay.

Never hack the flowers down –
Their colours bless the laughing clown.

Now why the mowing of the lawn?
The severed grass will lie forlorn.

Let our flora live undressed,
Or under Man, will toil repressed!

I, the tree of standing still –
Erect and proud, and stout of will,
Aglow with motley bark of earth –
Advance my roots for all they’re worth,
Internalising Nature’s bowels
To snag the devil, tweak his jowls
And pull his hairs from whence they grow!
I’ll destroy his pagan show
Of Homo sapiens’ disrespect!

The humble ape must reconnect
With Gaia’s plan!

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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Autumn On Parade

Autumn in nature and autumn in our faces.
The sultry breeze enfeebles, the glowering sun
Oppresses the ailing spirit in our breasts,
Shrivels the life trembling among the twigs of a poplar.
The yellow colours twirl in the final dance,
(A frantic desire of leaves dying one by one).
Our joys, passions, our ultimate desires
Fall and are trampled in the autumn mud.

An oak tree, reflected in the tears of heaven,
Tosses and bleeds in gigantic passion.
'To live! I want to live!' - it fights for breath,
Piercing the storm with cries of grief.

The horizon, drowned in fog, joins in
The lamentation. In prayer dejected fruit trees
Fold imploring branches - but in vain, they know.
Tomorrow they will die... Is there nowhere hope?

The eye is saddened. Saddened, too, the heart
At the hour of death, when silent fall the veins
And from the grave to the highest heavens soar
Despairing cries of long-unheeded pain.

Autumn in nature and autumn in our faces.
Moan, desires, offspring of poverty,
Groan in lamentation, bewail the corpses,
That adorn this autumn among the withered branches.

poem by Migjeni
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Pumpkin Parade

The pungent smell of autumn
With the air so crisp and cool
Golden leaves tumble to the ground
A time for nature’s renewal

The pumpkins are harvested
When autumn time appears
They are ripe and ready
For the parade we all revere

Horses are hooked up
To wagons and carts
Folks all pile in
And we’re ready to start

Aren’t they just beautiful?
The pumpkins I mean
Every size shade and style
It’s a sweet autumn dream

The air is so fresh
The time is so right
It’s a pumpkin parade
What a beautiful sight!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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The Autumn Months Splendor

The Autumn Months Melody
The hot summer days are gone and rolled by
The cool autumn months have once again arrived
The autumn majestic spirit permeates the land
It is another new day of autumn
The far sun above the horizon sends its rays and gentle warmth
on the valleys, mountains and hamlets
Nature has dressed in beautiful colors
The jolly trees are painted with red, yellow and brown
The autumn trees adorn the valleys and mountains that hug the skies
It is a portrait of panoramic dazzle
The brisk wind blows over the meadows
The cool wind sweeps the plains and fields
The tall trees dance and bow gently in grace
The tree branches hiss, swing and sway
The shivering leaves quiver with the wind
The green pastures are dotted with a mosaic
of dried brownish scattered leaves
Joining autumn happy symphony
The singing joyous birds, the playful beavers
The swimming silver fish in the water streams
All bring a solemn joy
The sun slowly climbs the immense skies
The autumn patchy clouds cast their shadows on the peaceful land
All painting an awesome picture of beauty, love and harmony
How beautiful are the melodies and splendor of the autumn months!

poem by Sherif Monem
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Autumn On Parade

An oak tree, reflected in the tears of heaven,
Tosses and bleeds in gigantic passion.
'To live! I want to live!' - it fights for breath,
Piercing the storm with cries of grief.

The horizon, drowned in fog, joins in
The lamentation. In prayer dejected fruit trees
Fold imploring branches - but in vain, they know.
Tomorrow they will die... Is there nowhere hope?

The eye is saddened. Saddened, too, the heart
At the hour of death, when silent fall the veins
And from the grave to the highest heavens soar
Despairing cries of long-unheeded pain.

Autumn in nature and autumn in our faces.
Moan, desires, offspring of poverty,
Groan in lamentation, bewail the corpses,
That adorn this autumn among the withered branches.

poem by Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
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In Her Autumn

without trembling,
without resistance,
in the autumn,
every autumn,
year after year,
a tree offers up its living adornment –
that which it has given birth to, nurtured,
and seen transform for the past six months.
and you can see the wisdom of her perfect surrender in her face,
the character lines
of seasons spent living,
giving to Nature,
drawn out across her bark.

And I know a Woman
whose face is deep with meaning,
radiating nature’s beauty,
simple, solid, stalwart.
She gives of her strength and solace
to anyone who approaches Her;

And in her Autumn,
Her dress will fall,
and she will surrender completely
to that which God wills, to that which must come to all.

poem by Marc Mannheimer
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As If They Have Their Own Identity

All of the Autumn leaves that fall from their mother tree
Are shaped so very differently
As if each has their own identity
At least that's how they seem to me.

In the cool gusts of the freshening winds they blow
Along the footpath fast and then quite slow
As if searching for a final resting place
On the Nature strip or in stormwater drain for to hide their wrinkled face.

Their span of time is brief so quick to meet decay
And in Nature's bosom within weeks they rot away
And off of their compost insects and beetles will live
When Nature takes in other ways she give.

Leaves too have life despite what some might say
And all things of life return to earth one day
And though they have life cells they do not have a mind
But they serve some purpose just like human kind.

I hear them rustle on their invisible feet
The dead dry leaves that are blown down the street
All of different shapes and sizes though from the one mother tree
As if they have their own identity.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Only On This Day...

For: J.L.

It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe Fazio
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Days Like This...Remind Me Of You