Autumn Shower 1
after autumn showers
lofty mountains appear
loftier
poem by Govind Seshadri
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Over The Lofty Mountains
Wonder I must, what I once may see
Over the lofty mountains!
Eyes shall meet only snow, may be;
Standing here, each evergreen tree
Over the heights is yearning;--
Will it be long in learning?
Pinions strong bear the eagle away
Over the lofty mountains
Forth to the young and vigorous day;
There he exults in the swift, wild play,
Rests where his spirit orders,--
Sees all the wide world's borders.
Full-leaved the apple-tree wishes naught
Over the lofty mountains!
Spreading, when summer hither is brought,
Waiting till next time in its thought;
Many a bird it is swinging,
Knowing not what they are singing.
He who has longed for twenty years
Over the lofty mountains,
He who knows that he never nears,
Smaller feels with the lapsing years,
Heeds what the bird is singing
Cheerily to its swinging.
Garrulous bird, what will you here
Over the lofty mountains?
Surely your nest was there less drear,
Taller the trees, the outlook clear;--
Will you then only bring me
Longings, but naught to wing me?
Shall I then never, never go
Over the lofty mountains?
Shall to my thoughts this wall say,--No!
Stand with terror of ice and snow,
Barring the way unwended,
Coffin me when life is ended?
Out will I! Out!--Oh, so far, far, far,
Over the lofty mountains!
Here is this cramping, confining bar,
Baffling my thoughts, that so buoyant are;--
Lord! Let me try the scaling,
Suffer no final failing!
Sometime I know I shall rise and soar
Over the lofty mountains.
Hast Thou already ajar Thy door?--
Good is Thy home! Yet, Lord, I implore,
Hold not the gates asunder,--
Leave me my longing wonder!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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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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When I See Autumn
I see autumn in dancing leaves.
I see autumn in words of poets.
I listen the breeze of autumn in your heart beat.
Which touches my heart when I hug you softly.
I fly in autumn higher and higher.
With a zig zag flow the more I get lighter.
I taste the fruits gifted by trees.
Celebrating and sharing the blessings of autumn.
If you search me please do it soon.
I may get lost in the bushes of autumn.
I get green and green with orange purple flowers.
When the leaves all around me give me the showers.
I dance with the chanting sparrows.
I forget all of my sorrows.
I get lost, lost and lost in the arms of God.
I become numb and dumb when I see autumn.
This poem I write in response of Seema Choudhary's poem 'Beauty of Autumn' and I give her the credit.
poem by Ramesh Kavdia
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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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Bitter For Sweet
Summer is gone with all its roses,
Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,
Its warm air and refreshing showers:
And even Autumn closes.
Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,
And winter comes which is yet colder;
Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,
And the last buds cease blowing.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Autumn mountains
The Autumn mountains
Weave Autumn leaves
For offerings, so
Even I, living here,
Feel the urge to travel.
poem by Ki no Tsurayuki
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My autumn girl
Your
Autumn lips
Autumn hair
Autumn eyes
Autumn smile
Autumn cheeks
I kiss God in autumn!
poem by Framarz Bagheri
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The Sign
I am bound to the King of the Sign of Autumn
Parting I love the fruits I detest the flowers
I regret every one of the kisses that I’ve given
Such a bitter walnut tells his grief to the showers
My Autumn eternal O my spiritual season
The hands of lost lovers juggle with your sun
A spouse follows me it’s my fatal shadow
The doves take flight this evening their last one
poem by Guillaume Apollinaire
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Showers....
autumn showers
sun is at it's peak
sadness prevails
poem by Khalid Hameed
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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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You, Me & This Autumn
It was you, me & this autumn, when
I stood an onlooker, then
You & the autumn romped again.
How I relish looking on, when
This autumn showered the golden
confetti on you, then
You & the autumn romped again.
Those birds, being envious of you, when
The silver heels & golden leaves would
make saccharine songs, then
You & the autumn romped again.
In our midst, this autumn was a bosom
pal, when
None would sing the songs with us, then
You & the autumn romped again.
You & Me were dashing on the greying
path, when
The autumn was younger & even younger,
our Love, then
You & the autumn romped again.
We met in every scuffle, we had, when
This autumn stood a witness, then
You & the autumn romped again.
Our deep ties with the autumn would
never go in vain, when
On our graves the golden confetti would
shower down again, then
You & the autumn romped again (close to
my grave)
poem by Pablo Keats
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Sun Showers
Arthur freed / nacio herb brown
Sun showers
Never mind the rain
The sun will shine again
Through sun showers
In a little while
They sky above will srnile
Like luster that follows your kiss
Dark clouds of sorrow
Will soon be a sunny tomorrow
While sun flowers
Raise their happy eyes
Up to the flaming skies
Then sun showers
Leave us as they follow
Rainbows in our hearts
The gray skies soon will clear
My dear
While sun showers are here
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Then There Are The Mountains
On a mountain's peak is there peace?
Mountains that overlook the quiet prairie.
Mountains that borders life in rural counties.
Mountains chiseled by years of wind and rain.
Mountain winds creep keeping all secrets.
Mountains a kin to the lower hills of death.
Mountains at the height of glamour baked in sunshine.
Mountains that reach for more majestic planes.
Mountains giving to the ridges, valleys and cliffs.
Mountains in spring the fulfillment of adventure and dream.
Mountains which can shelter one from storm.
Mountains an enduring symbol in poetry.
Mountains which inhabit the calls of the wild.
Mountains of spectacle, below the bending roads between.
Mountains embracing, magnifying the sounds of river.
Mountains the stellar monuments of time.
poem by William Blackman
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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.
Days Like This...Remind Me Of You
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.
New York... Not In Autum
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.
Autumn...Will Never Be The Same
FOR: J.L. With Love
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.
The Day...Was You
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.
©Joe Fazio
A Memorial
Canonised when dead, cannonaded when in life,
Lofty your thoughts that savour of content
But loftier the craftmanship
More congruent in symmetry
Than ever are our warring senses-
All in silent watch -martyr.
Not your lust of martyrdom but the sculptor's chisel
Leaves a living name. world wonder made.
Sad, Time and with it, centuries fail to see
Not light of fulfilment in your eyes
But hollow worn in stone,
History's daintily cut lies.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn In July (rated in group)
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, 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 have 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.