October Rust
I tremble in agony as I walk on Autumn’s leaves.
I touch the sound of it crumbling on the ground.
October, being its very own, passes by me without being known.
As I stand near the edge, I’m thinking of rolling down these hills.
I listen to the leaves break off branches and watch the dawn rain of seeds.
Orange, brown, red, and gold filling in the silence.
Trees rusting leaves off of its broken down walls.
The wind whispers to me of October’s Rust.
So it must be November, because this poem does not cover all the elements of October.
I’m running out of time as I put this pen on this paper.
And the very graveyard I’m walking on sings me a melody of a great song.
A song so great, it teaches me words of wisdom, for heaven’s sake.
67 crows fly right by me, as I pay attention to them by listening with my eyes and seeing with my ears.
I miss October’s Rust.
But November brings me a time of love without rusting itself onto oranges, browns, reds, and golds.
poem by Pam Eszpnal

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[revised 11-19-09] Getting Through October and Beyond
What was it about October
That made us think
Spring would not be coming back?
The weather rattled at us,
Leaves fell,
Leaving us feeling
It's not going to get any better.
No amount of experience or
Logic will helped,
Spring last year didn't help,
When the shorter days of
Fall and Winter closed in.
Beyond October?
What was it about October
That assured us
Spring will be coming back?
The weather hinted of changes,
Leaves brave enough
To let go one by one,
Or be pushed in bunches by the wind
Took momentary flight, and
Abandoned their accustomed tree.
They made room for new buds
Provided cover for the soil and
Food for those below.
Lots of work to get ready
For Spring next year and to
Just get through Fall and Winter.
Then came November.
November brought
What October teased.
October warned us,
Rushed at us,
Then seemed to pull back
Like a gentle rolling surf.
On a rough November day
A wave rushed over our heads
Knocked us down and threatened
To pull us far out to sea.
As we floated
We saw the shore disappear.
No one will come to help.
They won't even know we're gone.
'I've got to get to December! '
We scream.
'New Year's Day! Easter!
May Day! MAY DAY! '
And we will
Even if we have no idea
Why or how
poem by Tom J. Mariani

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Leaves (thread)
under the dogwood
leaves cover
a cat’s grave
early spring
one leaf still dangles
from the tree
palmistry
dew drops on a leaf
pick a vein
widow’s diary
pressed rose petal
the last leaf
with the rain drops
leaves flutter to the ground
fall showers
fallen leaves
circusing in the grass
merry-go-wind
October shower
leaves in the gutter
disembark
leaves changing colors
across the landscape
season's chameleons
morning rain
under maple leaves
tap my shoulder
leaves ripple
with melodies
cicadas song
These were published online by Sketchbook. See September/October “leaves” Haiku thread:
poem by Ben Gieske

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Winter Fantasy
We build cathedrals
When the illusion disappears
When we are cold in bed
Under covers that cover
Little
Or too much
We scratch our guitars
Hoping they'll be tickled
Yet tight cords hardly could
Cover
The mist, we walk to meet
When the illusion within us
Disappears
An October morning
Full of rust and leaves
Full of echoeing space
We write and never send
For to receive takes the illusion
Of sending
Away
When we write for no one to read
But to say what has to be said
Loudly, within the internal silence
Of the cathedrals we build
When love is still there
When love has no place
To find respite
From itself
On misty October mornings
Full of rusty leaves
Whirling on our balcony
Like the dance you like
To dance
Each time
Before you leave…
October 27,2008
poem by Vahe Kazandjian

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Powdered Kaolin
Autumn’s closing in now,
leaves have dressed the ground.
Laying in heaped profusion,
so still, making no sound.
Reds and rusts are mingling,
beneath each skeletal tree.
Tumbling when the breezes blow,
off on their reckless spree.
Misty are the mornings,
bad weather’s moving in.
Frost will appear on branches,
like powdered kaolin.
October, then November,
Summer is no longer here,
Chilly days are approaching,
the last leaves disappear.
Autumn’s closing in now,
with blustery winds so cold.
But, whatever Winter brings,
Spring will again unfold.
poem by Ernestine Northover

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Fall Drama
Like myriad jewels October comes
Topaz and flaming red
The length and breadth of slopes
And canyons of the White Mountains.
Rays of morning sun glint scarlet-gold,
Leaves glow in dew-damp air,
Give promise of never-ending loveliness.
O opulent October,
You give us one last show before
November winds ravage leaf and limb
And all your red-gold harvest lies
In heaps upon the ground.
O, October, how can we feel gladness
Beguided by your pageantry...
When trees stand bare and mute,
We wil remember your grand performance
Was but the prelude to a death-like sleep.
poem by Florence Weber Mann

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Greeting Us With A New Surprise
After the March winds
we have the April rain.
Now in May we watch
the pretty flows grow.
June, July and August
are the flowering seasons
at the height of the noonday’s sun.
September brings the autumn leaves
near the closing of the year.
October seems to bear all
as the autumn leaves begin to fall.
November brings a chill
to every living thing
announcing winter is on its way.
December’s snow blankets
the hard frozen ground.
January brings in a new year
to February’s valentines.
And so each moth rolls by,
each greeting us with a new surprise.
23-24 May 2008
poem by David Harris

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Sweet Fall
The leaves have already grown back
now that november is gone
The sweet november i met you
months go by and we grow farther apart
The cool gentle breeze blowing in my face
and now a lukewarm summers embrace
but as the seasons change so do we
not tied back, but not necassarily free
that sweet october
how sweet and kind it was
now love flourished and blossomed
now my heart misses the sweet fall
because summer has nothing waiting for me
almost like if in the season of nothing at all
and the branches on my tree now grow tall
with flowers and birds
but i still miss november, october and early december
moving on not being able to stall
i move on with your memory
and the memory of our
sweet fall
poem by Alma Estrella

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When the Year grows Old
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old --
October -- November --
How she disliked the cold!
She used to watch the swallows
Go down across the sky,
And turn from the window
With a little sharp sigh.
And often when the brown leaves
Were brittle on the ground,
And the wind in the chimney
Made a melancholy sound,
She had a look about her
That I wish I could forget --
The look of a scared thing
Sitting in a net!
Oh, beautiful at nightfall
The soft spitting snow!
And beautiful the bare boughs
Rubbing to and fro!
But the roaring of the fire,
And the warmth of fur,
And the boiling of the kettle
Were beautiful to her!
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old --
October -- November --
How she disliked the cold!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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Old October
Old October's purt' nigh gone,
And the frosts is comin' on
Little heavier every day--
Like our hearts is thataway!
Leaves is changin' overhead
Back from green to gray and red,
Brown and yeller, with their stems
Loosenin' on the oaks and e'ms;
And the balance of the trees
Gittin' balder every breeze--
Like the heads we're scratchin' on!
Old October's purt' nigh gone.
I love Old October so,
I can't bear to see her go--
Seems to me like losin' some
Old-home relative er chum--
'Pears like sorto' settin' by
Some old friend 'at sigh by sigh
Was a-passin' out o' sight
Into everlastin' night!
Hickernuts a feller hears
Rattlin' down is more like tears
Drappin' on the leaves below--
I love Old October so!
Can't tell what it is about
Old October knock me out--!
I sleep well enough at night--
And the blamedest appetite
Ever mortal man possessed--,
Last thing et, it tastes the best--!
Warnuts, butternuts, pawpaws,
'Iles and limbers up my jaws
Fer raal service, sich as new
Pork, spareribs, and sausage, too--.
Yit fer all, they's somepin' 'bout
Old October knocks me out!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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My October Symphony
(tennant/lowe)
----------------------
So much confusion
When autumn comes around
What to do about october
How to smile behind a frown?
Its hard to settle down
Its so bemusing
Will they cancel the parade?
We marched each october
Now they say we were never even saved
We must be very brave
Shall I rewrite or revise
My october symphony?
Or as an indication
Change the dedication
From revolution to revelation?
So were all drinking
As leaves fall to the ground
Because weve been thinking
How octobers let us down
Then and now
Shall we remember
December instead?
Or worry about february?
Mourn our war-torn dead
Never seeing red?
Shall I rewrite or revise
My october symphony?
Or as an indication
Change the dedication
From revolution to revelation?
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Must Be October
The harvest moon hangs round and high
It dodges clouds high in the sky
The stars wink down their love and mirth
The Autumn seasons is giving birth
Oh it must be October
The leaves of red bright gold and brown
To Mother earth come tumbling down
The breezy nights the ghostly sights
The eerie spooky far off sounds
Are signs that its October
The pumpkin yellow big and round
Are carried by costumed clumsy clowns
Its Halloween lets celebrate
Come one come all and don't be late
We know now its October
We'll roast and toast some luscious food
For apples we'll be bobbin
While tales are told around the fire
Of timely ghosts and goblins
Oh how we love October
The moon has grown pale
The stars have grown dim
Our Halloween party is over
With a hi-de-ho homeward we'll go
What a delightful month October
poem by Pearl N. Sorrels

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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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When October Goes
And when October goes
The snow begins to fly
Above the smokey roofs
I watch the planes go by
The children running home
Beneath a twilight sky
Oh, for the fun of them
When I was one of them
And when October goes
The same old dream appears
And you are in my arms
To share the happy years
I turn my head away
To hide the helpless tears
Oh how I hate to see October go
I should be over it now I know
It doesn't matter much
How old I grow
I hate to see October go
song performed by by Barry Manilow

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Of October!
October sings a painful
song of flooded waters
from furious clouds
and the sorrows
of lost souls in arrows
that hit and sliced the earth
and october sings.....
who wronged?
the earth or the flooding
waters killed innocent lives..
October 5,2009
poem by Rema Prasanaa

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October Girl
I married an October girl
but met her in December's cold,
I remember well
that winter of our meeting
you could not say that it was swell
that frosty first time greeting.
I saw her a second time
October in the spring
when light shone from her face
and joined with my light within;
she blew a gentle breeze
with freshness in her haste
to meet again the man
who previously in December
she had not seemed
so keen to chase.
She blew into my life in spring
through summer and the fall
and swirled around the boughs
of my many outreaching branches,
until she bared me of all the leaves
I'd grown throughout my life
and pointed to the roots of me
that held me strong in strife.
October is a blustery girl
with many winds of change
sometimes with an angry squall
that bares wintered teeth
with lightening storms of rage,
but I never did meet a girl
with such a warm embrace.
I married that October girl
we married in the spring
and as I wait to see
what summer's breeze may bring
I know that October's girl
will shine her light within
as I soar up so very high
upon October's wind.
poem by David Taylor

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Vae Victis!
Here in this isle
The summer still lingers,
And Autumn's brown fingers
So busy the while
With the leaves in the north;
Are scarcely put forth
In this land where the sun still glows like an ember,.
In mid-November.
In England it's cold,
And the yellow and red
Of October have fled ;
And the sun is wet gold
Like an emperor weeping,
When Death goes a-reaping
All through his empire, merciless comer
The dead things of summer.
The sky has cried so
That the earth is all sodden,
With dead leaves in-trodden,
And the trees to and fro
Wave their arms in the air
In despair, in despair :
They are thinking of all the hot days that are over,
And the cows in the clover.
Here the roses are out,
And the sun at high noon
Makes the birds faint and swoon.
But the cricket's about
With his song, and the hum
Of the bees as they come
To feast at the honey-board laden and groaning,
Makes musical droning.
But vainly, alas !
Do I hide in the south,
Kiss close with my mouth
Red flowers, green grass,
For Autumn has found me
And thrown her arms around me.
She has breathed on my lips and I wander apart,
Dead leaves in my heart.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas

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Threading Through October (a pantoum)
New England autumn shouts out loud:
Arachne goes wild with natural dyed yarns.
Brash goldenrod has gone sedate.
What shall we do when winter comes?
Arachne goes wild with natural dyed yarns
her tapestry evolving daily.
What shall we do when winter comes
with silence out companion?
Her tapestry evolving daily
she weaves with leaves and branches.
With silence our companion
we watch and wait in wonder.
She weaves with leaves and branches
a symphony of autumn.
We watch and wait in wonder
what last great chord will strike.
A symphony of autumn
threading through October
what last great chord will strike
when all the weft is spent?
Threading through October
brash goldenrod has gone sedate.
When all the weft is spent
New England autumn shouts out loud.
Touch of Autumn
It is blowing, it is getting cold
Birds are chirping, birds are resting!
The long sunny day is gone
replaced by the sudden onset of night!
Leaves from trees, fruits like apples,
peaches, berries and grapes fall down.
My beans and squash seem ready
to sleep and abort the budding of flowers.
The green colours turn golden and
cover the living soil and ground.
September, October and November,
the golden long autumn months
of fallen leaves from windy heights.
___________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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Leaves of Amber
Leaves of Amber
A black rose of Fall;
Rare to feel rejoice,
rain to kiss and roll,
silent woods voice.
She comes like told,
a lone knot of miles,
her lips wet 'n' cold,
betimes distant isles.
One red wine bottle,
the poem away flies;
an inviolable throttle,
amid truths 'n' skies.
One sip in the wind,
and a dropp to oblate;
a touch of tips quint,
Blue Notte hue of late;
Cold spells in drops;
melancholy October;
dew reigns bud tops,
and leaves of amber.
Rain soaks her steps,
wind takes her voice,
wrinkles and schleps
a saddening choice.
Sails on red wine spill,
her drops of October,
Sky rain inks my quill
and leaves of amber..
Copyright © G. V.06.09.2012
/ PoemH.31481137
poem by Giorgio Veneto

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October
O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know. Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; one from our trees, one far away. Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow! For the grapes' sake, if the were all, Whose elaves already are burnt with frost, Whose clustered fruit must else be lost-- For the grapes' sake along the all.
poem by Robert Frost

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