Red Velvet
Four months ago in april on a daycoach she came down
And the dust autumn winds begin to blow
Shoulda known I couldnt hold livin out so far from town
And the nights to come are long are slow to go
Well now shes up and left me and when walkin down the line
And the dusty autumn wind begins to blow
All dressed up in red velvet and he high heeled shoes so fine
And the nights to come are long and slow to go
Well if I had only know before we kissed
You cant keep red velvet on a poor dirt farm like this
Oh now shes gone and left me and went walkin down the line
And the dusty autumn winds begin to blow
Well Ill sit and count the evening stars as they walk around
When the dusty autumn winds begin to blow
Then Ill call my dog and Ill take the truck and Ill drive on into town
Cause the nights to come are long and slow to go
Well Ill sit and count the evening stars as they walk around
When the dusty autumn winds begin to blow
Then Ill call my dog and Ill take the truck and Ill drive on into town
Cause the nights to come are long and slow to go
And those dusty autumn winds begin to blow
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Season of Change
Autumn winds gently in,
washing away Summer's sin...
Autumn winds blow free,
chasing colored leaves from every tree...
Autumn winds chill,
frosting through every valley and hill...
Autumn winds passed,
waiting for Winter's snowy blast.
poem by George Aul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Is Coming
Autumn is coming
With gentle breezes
And howling winds
Autumn is coming
To change the colors
To red, brown, and gold
Upon the forest floor
Will lie the leaves of all the trees
When Autumn is here
When the days cool
And the nights grow long
With a bright silver moon in the sky
When the sleepiness sets in
We will sleep until
Winter breaks
Autumn is coming
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Has My Mother Gone?
Where has my mother gone? I haven't heard from her,
no letters and no phone calls,
When autumn winds begin to blow,
I think of her even more,
I held my mother's hands,
Warm, hard, tight, hard working hands.
On a windy night, I was scared and lonely.
My mother held me tightly, and we slept together,
More than anyone else, my mother prayed
For my complete happiness.
I saw her a year ago, sleeping so soundly.
Couldn't bear to wake her, I kissed her.
I hope you live long-----long, I want to see you again.
I stared at my mother's face,
Her face reflecting a hard, hard life,
I called mother! Mother!
There is no answer, only an echo from far away
Where has my mother gone?
Cold, Cold, Autumn winds.
poem by Fusayo Butko
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Thinking Of What Lies Ahead
Clouds of grey
Lie strewn against bright blue
Dimming the already dim moonlight
The smell of rain permeates the air
The moisture almost tangible
Autumn winds blow red and brown leaves
Around on the floor
Staring at the celing
Glowing stars peep through the curtains
A half-bitten moon resides high in the sky
She waits for sleep to over come her
But her mind turns and works
Thinking about the future
Of what lies ahead
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Seasons
With the spring
comes a carpet of green
that spreads out
across the land
as new growth rears its head
to meet the spring sun.
Slowly as the season folds
and summer comes along.
The colours of the rainbow
greet everyone’s eyes
along with the warm breezes
that sweep across the land.
The summer folds into autumn
and the vibrant colours
change to musty ones
as harsh winds blow
knocking leaves and petals
to the ground.
Finally, autumn closes
and winter begins again.
White fluffy snowflakes
begin to scatter on the ground.
And when winter comes to go
spring will then return
and the seasons begin all over again.
22 May 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rhythms Of Life
Everything has a rhythm
that puts music in the air.
The morning with its bird calls
awakening everywhere.
The yawns of the waking
as they greet a new day.
The afternoon rhythm
is smiling faces to be seen,
especially while the sun
is high up in the sky
mingled with laughter
from children as they play.
The evening rhythm
is of the close of day
as the voices of the night
begin to appear.
A gentle breeze cools the air
to end another day of rhythms
before they all begin again.
The seasons have their rhythms too;
the spring with its new life
from the earth begins to grow.
The summer with its warmth
and bright colours, begin to show.
The autumn as the year
begins to die away.
The falling of the leaves nurture the soil.
Then the winter’s rhythm comes in play
with the cold winds that blow
and the bringing of the snow.
It is the rhythm of the closing of the year
and so the rhythms of life
go on everyday.
19 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winds Of Change
Written by kit hain.
Tonight theres thunder in the sky
Just like the night you said good-bye
And whats left of a heartache
Runs like rain from my eyes
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
I stood like a rock against the storm
And you never knew, did you, how I was torn
And if your memory finally leaves me too
Well I wont sit and mourn
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
I shoulda known better than to love you
I shoulda known that you were the hurting kind
Now Im so tired of thinking of you
I just wanna forget that you were ever mine
Tonight theres shadows on my face
Every one tells a story of your disgrace
But soon the dawn will come
And Ill be gone without a trace
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter...
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
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.
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
Kings Vengeance
Down and out in the city
Wont you give a boy a break
Juvenile on trial before committee
Taken all he can take
But the king shall have his vengeance
Especially on the poor
Some say preaching to convert him
Me Im not too sure
Spring she comes and spring she teases
Brings summer winds and summer breezes
Blow through your hair till autumn leaves us
When autumn leaves us, oh how winter freezes
And the child is still breathing
With the beating of a heart (with the beating of the heart)
Some say we are equal
Some a million miles apart
Oh my god
Oh my god
But the king shall have his vengeance
While the queen she represents the innocent
And the child so dependent
But the seasons conquer all
Spring she comes and spring she teases
Brings summer winds and summer breezes
Blow through your hair till autumn leaves us
When autumn leaves, oh how winter freezes
But the king shall have his vengeance
Especially on the poor
Some say preaching to converted
Me Im not so sure
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
Mid July? Or Not
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.
A Day Like No Other...
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.
Autumn In July
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.
Autumn In July
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.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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