Every season has its special beauty and autumn is no exception. Watching the trees turn from a uniform green to all varieties of gold, yellow and red is a spectacular experience. One can almost be blinded by the fiery brilliance. How can it be that all this beauty is sign of death and decay? With all this beauty there is a certain sadness in knowing that the changing colors foreshadow the arrival of a long cold winter.
Sing to me, Autumn, with the rustle of your leaves.
Breathe on me your spicy scents that flow within your breeze.
Dance with me, Autumn, your waltz that bends the boughs of trees.
This poem beautifully provides us an opportunity to feel connected with nature. As human beings, we have been born in the lap of nature, have grown under the protection of nature, but we’ve...
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Golden, crisp leaves falling softly from almost bare trees,
Lifting and falling in a hushed gentle breeze.
Slowly dropping to the soft cushioned ground,
Whispering and rustling a soothing sound.
Letting go of painful things is probably one of the most difficult choices to make. But once you realize what your aspirations, visions, and ideals in life are- that these have become somehow...
Sun with his artistic touch,
streaks skies of blue with rosy blush,
trimming Oak and Maple too,
crimson reds with yellow hue.
The poem brings such a panoramic picture of Autumn that you can't help but be present for the synesthetic experience. The alliteration of the words gives a beautiful rhythm to the poem, such...
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A flash of lightning streaks across the sky.
We huddle close beneath the trembling eaves
As thunder roars a nightmare lullaby
And strips the trees outside of summer leaves.
This was great! So great! It was very nice. It was also inspiring in a way...
Looking out my window
In October's golden light,
I see a beauty unsurpassed,
A truly lovely sight.
The poem portrays the beauty of the fall, just as Keats famously wrote: "Thou hast thy music too!" Nature's pristine beauty is a treat to the human eye. The references to the golden light,...
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
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The leaves are changing and so is the weather
It's time to put away the shorts and put on the sweater
Halloween is near and Thanksgiving is coming
My favorite time of year this is becoming
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
It's an awesome poem!!
I really love it!!!
There's a crispness in the air that greets the morning sun, a feeling of anticipation, a new day has begun.
Harvest days are ending, winter is drawing near, yet in between is surely the most special time of year.
They call it Indian Summer, and it seems to fit the bill, for it's as if the Lord took a feathered brush and painted all the hills.
...
Very beautiful & inspiring. "Women in Ministry" will share this at a coffee we are hosting for younger women we mentor in the church.
Sandy, Moderator WIM
A misty morning -
Pumpkins in the air, while boots
Crunch on autumn leaves.
Spring Poems
Winter Poems
Halloween Poems
Famous Nature Poems
Summer Poems
Nature Beauty Poems