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Autumn Friends

If one could bridge the distance with a word,
A journey would become a pilgrimage.
Elegant letters slant across the page.
My leaf has found a home upon your coat.

My kind critic, I think it is our fate
To meet in stanzas of my poetry.
Simile and metaphor must be our bond
Until autumn blows one of us away.

Our rare rapport is irreplacable.
Old moods glimmer on sills like fallen stars.
My little leaf says thank you every day.
It comforts me to know it traveled safe.

'With my compliments to Mukund Dave for
all his eloquent reviews'

poem by Sandra Fowler
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A Leaf Has Fallen

A leaf has fallen on the ground,
Beliefs have solutions that astound;
Every tree that believed in its wood
Shall learn pain from the heavenly adulthood.

A leaf has fallen on the ground,
Solutions do stem from what is around;
All the flowers give messages in the air,
Their overly beautiful appearance is anywhere.

A leaf has escaped from the branches of a tree
As the wind blows on the older apples carefully;
Their sweetness is called ripeness,
It is the quality of happiness.

poem by Naveed Akram
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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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A Second Spring

The dew indiscriminately

wept for all things living and dead

on this early autumn morning.

Its cold droplets caressed the leaves

while lingering sap-starved leaf stems

clung precariously above

and each dying leaf shed teardrops

for and onto their fallen kind.

One by one they released their hold

falling silently, gracefully

in their final unique fashion:

Some swayed. Others pirouetted;

and many more, somersaulting

into their final resting place.

Sunbeams from an October star

spilt rippling puddles of warm light

on their multicolored remains

amid the vibrant wildflowers.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
Albert Camus

poem by Albert Ahearn
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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)
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Lonely Leaf

Lonely leaf
trembles
at the feeble moment

It's on the verge of falling
It's about to merge with limitless nature!

Air is guest to leaf once
now will become constant companion

Bond with tree
soon will be abandoned

The moment came
parting is always pain
fighting against time is invain
finally tree says farewell to the leaf

Now leaf realises boundless 'freedom'
It's floating like free bird
It is 'gone with the wind'

Leaf lost it's green colour
wearing pale colour
Colour hardly matters!
Leaf sings song of freedom

Bond with tree is bound
Feeling freedom is ecstasy abound

poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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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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Autumn Ill

Autumn ill and adored
You die when the hurricane blows in the roseries
When it has snowed
In the orchard trees
Poor autumn
Dead in whiteness and riches
Of snow and ripe fruits
Deep in the sky
The sparrow hawks cry
Over the sprites with green hair the dwarfs
Who’ve never been loved
In the far tree-lines
the stags are groaning
And how I love O season how I love your rumbling
The falling fruits that no one gathers
The wind the forest that are tumbling
All their tears in autumn leaf by leaf
The leaves
You press
A crowd
That flows
The life
That goes

poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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The Flask of Time

There is a single leaf flying
in this my autumn gloaming,
a leaf fluttering light
as if being orchestrated
by your words in flight
rushing to my inner ear;
'I have fallen in love
with another you said.'

My leaf stammered,
swaying in its downward flight
unable to remount the tree,
terrified to crash the ground
suspended forever there
as was also true of your words;
better to not reach my inner ear
better to not have my leaf touch down dead.

Between us all these years
neither war, nor peace;
we existed in the troubled middle ground
purgatoried, unsensed, fluttering, leaf bound
frozen between tree and ground.

Now you have burned our tree down-
lit the leaf and made it flame-
and pulled from under us the very ground.

No matter the dead leaves, the burning tree
no matter the absent ground
these things will
in turn return
for the seasons never-end.

Therefore, I shall take my sip of sorrow
sipped slowly from my Flask of Time
and await
the Spring.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Bridge, The

I once
as a young boy
stood on a little
wooden country bridge;
tip-toed to look at
the languid moving water

Tomorrow popped up -
the wind that had blown in
tore off a leaf from
a tall standing tree
roots entrenched
by the water's edge

and this leaf
wafted and fluttered
and glided into the
current below
taken bodily
where gravity pulls

and drifted upon the
wavelets lapping
and pushing
its severed self
far, far away into
the distance

I heard the crickets
and the cicadas
droning in the
afternoon sun;
those things could
ruin your ears!

and all the while
I gazed upon the
fallen leaf
hoping to spy on
what the future
promised downstream:

that if I let go
of whatever it was
that kept me there
feet dangling through
the rusted railing;
heart racing

would I wake up
and return to the
bustling world
unable to swim
against the current
rudely torn off

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Another Leaf.....

another leaf

another year
another seed to plant
another tree to grow

there will be no hiding from now on
there will be more
confrontations

no one to trust
everyone is a suspect

love of self
nothing greater than this

another leaf
of the book to turn to
another page
to write on the journal

tomorrow is my day
my own unique beginning

you were all disappointments
my food came to the wrong mouths

there is no wishing for death
for me or for anyone

there is more use to reason now
rather than the flings of the heart

another sun for me
another new moon

my shadows follow me
and not otherwise

another leaf
without a worm

another glistening leaf
dew forgiven.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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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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Aquarium Fish

MOULD-COLOURED like the leaf long fallen from
The autumn branch, he rises now, the Fish.
The cold eyes of the gannets see their rock:
He has No-whither. Who was it marked
Earth from the waters? Who
Divided space into such lines for us,
Giving men To and Fro, not Up and Down?
This dweller in the ancient element
Knows Space's cross-road. Who
Closed up the Depth to us? He rises now
Mould-coloured like the leaf long fallen from
The autumn branch, with eyes that are like lamps
Magicians fill with oils from dead men ta'en,
Most rootless of all beings, the Fish.

poem by Padraic Colum
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Her Initals

UPON a poet's page I wrote
Of old two letters of her name;
Part seemed she of the effulgent thought
Whence that high singer's rapture came.
--When now I turn the leaf the same
Immortal light illumes the lay
But from the letters of her name
The radiance has died away.

poem by Thomas Hardy
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Her Initials

Upon a poet’s page I wrote
Of old two letters of her name;
Part seemed she of the effulgent thought
Whence that high singer’s rapture came.
—When now I turn the leaf the same
Immortal light illumes the lay
But from the letters of her name
The radiance has died away.

poem by Thomas Hardy
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A year the Juniper tree

Thou art...
the wisdom of autumn,
a coloured autumn leaf, fallen of a tree,
a winter dream,
fresh fallen snow on a beach by the sea,
the first dawn of spring,
dew which gives morning its mystery,
full warmth of summer
and birds flying free....

Thou art all four seasons to me!

poem by Lady Lilith
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The Language Of Poetry Is Metaphor

The language of poetry is metaphor
And irony and ambiguity
And beauty-

Beauty is the language of poetry
And metaphor and irony and ambiguity
And irony -

Beauty is the language of metaphor
And poetry without beauty
Is like poetry without metaphor
Like poetry without simile-

Poetry is poetry
Like beauty is beauty
And metaphor, metaphor
And language language -

Ironically
Without themselves they are something else
Or perhaps another variant of themselves
Ironically.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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A New leaf

There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree

The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree

Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree

Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree

Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree

poem by Adrian Wait
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leaf by leaf
the wind tears
away autumn

haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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