Under the golden boughs of ancient trees, autumn sighs,  
As leaves descend in a swirling, endless ballet,  
The earth receives them with a gentle embrace,
withering compost pile.
 

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Autumn nips at my door
another year begins to come undone
Somehow, the change of light 
sends my compass spinning
I question where I am
One anchor torn
while others persist
but where to next...

Autumn brings a tenderness
to the boundary of all I feel
Somehow, this drop in temperature 
sends me reeling
I trace the path of how I got here
Quietly lost and searching
in a moment of shif...

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The leaves come down

And they’re orange and brown

And they fall in the forest

And they tumble in the town

And they clog up the gutters and gather in the grates

They're  the colour of butter when they shine on slates 

And they crinkle and curl as they silently lie

For this is the time when the leaves all die

In Autumn gales 

They are blown and tossed

As the sun tu...

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The leaves come down

And they’re orange and brown

And they fall in the forest

And they tumble in the town

And they clog up the gutters and gather in the grates

They're  the colour of butter when they shine on slates 

And they crinkle and curl as they silently lie

For this is the time when the leaves all die

In Autumn gales 

They are blown and tossed

As the sun tu...

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November has come with its moods,

The trees were naked in the woods.

The time has come to think about dears

So they could live life without any fears.

The rains wash the streets at this time.

The colorful trees decorate the streets.

Autumn charms anyone at any clime.

Autumn greets anyone she meets.

So what that November has come?

If you feel the ...

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My dear homeland, with fields so wide
And rivers that carve through vast, silent tide
On green hills where the calm winds flow
I left my heart in your soil below

Where wheat grows tall, and autumn turns gold
I, far from you, in the cold snow unfold
The distant peaks, where bears are hunted still
Sing in the breeze, a sweet, wistful thrill

Oh, my homeland, why did I leave thee?
With fo...

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The autumn sky began to sound like rain again

The drops of the rain will water the ground.

My thoughts and desires for sure will remain.

Perhaps romance nowadays was found.

I don’t like partings and sad glances so much,

I don't like saying "farewell" as such.

I know it's not forever but I don't like to part.

The partings always break my heart.

If only we were allo...

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Autumn turned into the red October.

It made a fire out of colorful leaves.

It wasn't cold but turned into amber.

In rains and winds, it only believes.

In October Autumn has become just crazy.

In October Autumn has become a bit lazy.

Walking sadly, weeping with a lot of tears,

Hiding carefully its reddish face and fears.

The thoughts of crazy October torm...

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She goes quietly, slowly, and surely.

She demonstrates her beauty yearly.

The rain was in love with our beauty

Anyone could call her only cutie.

She walks so gently on a warm night,

Like a gentle moth flies to a bright light.

She flies easily in the trees dark,

Her leaves swirl in the dark park.

And the aroma of an apple and a plum

Always give her sw...

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Wearing a gray raincoat, with an unsteady walk,

The rain was so sad and didn't want to talk.

He remembered those sweet and beautiful days

When the butterflies flew among the warm bays.

He remembered a nightingale singing a song

And it looked as if nothing was wrong.

Now autumn melancholy and sadness

Replaced the joy of summer happiness.

The rain came acr...

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Late rainy autumn was standing near the window,
she was waiting for the wind to come
-Where are you, my naughty fellow?
-Where are you caring along, my charm?

She was irritated by his carelessness,
she was angry with his frivolity
But still admired his appearance,
and still was charmed by his self-confidence.

Autumn was always a woman,
red-haired and very susceptible,
a little ...

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The whiff of death,

party’s over, this

technicolour decline

needs a makeover.

Leaves gone acrid,

red, white and

blue blossoms

turned rancid brown.

Red and yellow

spots emerging,

a bloated assemblage

is rotting down.

Unkempt and

maggoty,

extremities

have putrefied.

And desperate

deadheads cling on,

won’t give up

on cal...

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Autumn

Autumn, cloaked in scarlet, russet and bronze,

Is a spendthrift who

Flings gold across the landscape

Steps proudly midst Harvest’s abundance.

Caresses velvety peaches

Plucks bushels of pears, plums and pomegranates

Bites crisp, caramel apples

Tastes tangy hot cider.

Greets goblins at her door

Hands out treats to pint-sized Jack-O-Lanterns

While wit...

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i wish the forests
could take me back
puln deep: 
neath the shake of
the leaf
and ire 
of the rhime 
fed way 
while my bones turn to rest
and my soul to the deep,
knowing spores

from death to the winds
carried high to the rains
falling
again and again
again and again
again and again;

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Golden windows
And golden walls. 
Silver back surfers
Riding through the fall. 
I'm here waiting 
Comiserating-
Why can't I stay in the Golden halls?

The trees are embers. 
There are apples on the floor.
I get the feeling 
death is at my door.  
wish I could stay in the golden halls. 

The golden halls. 
The golden halls. 
Wish I could stay in the golden halls.

This is about ...

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The winter frost calls
As memories of spring fade,
Autumn breeze beckons

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Autumn leaves, skipping

Up the old apples and pears

To her wintry rest.

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Some people have a favourite season

The beautiful bright sunny days of Summer

perhaps the subtle colours of Autumn

Maybe the endless smells of Spring

or the cosiness that only Winter can bring.

Me… I fell in love with the changes in seasons

they are like my children

Everyone with their own mystique

changing before my eyes while growing up to be unique.

I ...

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tears fall from the tips of leaves, 
no longer heaving but finally at peace, 
no longer a place for relief, 
no longer bending to the constant breeze, 
no longer kept afloat meandering rivers, 
no longer subject to raging fires, 
no longer a victim to defeat. 

tides no longer pulling at the heart, 
stars no longer hovering above, 
no longer tormented to be part of the world 
that casts...

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As autumn's rusty fingers begin
to push their way through tired trees
So, the early dimming light
and spectral chill conspire
to gently sweep me back in time

It's Oxford in the autumn
nineteen; with eyes opening
A new life unfolding
cycling through the leaves
and sighing under bridges

Oxford in the autumn
that brick so old around me
broad streets, illogical lanes
busses and puddle...

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To long for the tall and rounded neck

Of the swan overwintering.

To wind it round all snug and warm,

Tucked and sheltered under wing.

To see me through to daffodils,

When the long nights up and scarper.

But first the wind will undress trees 

And its bite will get much sharper 

For now the song has dimmed to still

And the sun just won’t stay put.

The air is g...

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Every Autumn fills
with browns and reds,
yellows and oranges;

Sweeping leaves
and a steady wind
blowing through trees.

Halloween decorations,
candy corn, and costume trials
as little ones prepare

for changes in the air.
Days lead up to celebrating
another trip around the sun,

yet this season is another reminder
of all those years ago
when we lost you.

Years collect dust ri...

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It was a cold and crisp evening, 

9:30pm and the full moon shone down

brightly on my path, 

Guiding me, 

As my feet crunched through

fallen scattered leaves. 

A sharp chill filled the air

And the smell of wood burning brought me 

back to the good aul days. 

If I had just awoken from a coma I 

would have known for certain that it 

was Autumn. 

Amber lea...

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LeAvEs
How they have fallen,
Laying thick,
Pressing the jostling grass
Under them.
Obliterating it from sight.
Their browns and yellows brighter
Than the grey above.
Achieving a moment of glory,
In death a dominance.
Looking up to freed branches
Framing veiled light,
Had they thought to fly,
Letting go their source of life?
How they have fallen!

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Waking to see autumn's lustre

lit on my beech

rust leaves gilt glowing

red gold bathed by

a rising sun's first grasp

of day.

Turning to see gold amber cirrus

low light the east -

beneath a darker grey purple

cloud bruise

that golden gleam of

dawning dawn.

So my sad grey purple dreams

dawn dim

their dark ghosts disconnect ...

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A fiery clown has come down

Over forests, lanes and towns.

No trumpets blown, no drums rolled,

Out of the morning mists he strolled.

Yello! Yello! It's party-time!,

He smiled. His reds and golds he sprayed around.

And God's whole house was swathed with hues untold.

All about the orange glowed, crimson leaves displayed.

The ceiling now was light with blue.

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The Cleveland cold envelops me like cellophane,

Holding me as tight as a rigor mortis grip,

It clenches at my joints,

Constricting my movement not unlike a python,

Walking feels sluggish,

Lifting my arms is akin to moving through clay,

I revel in the uneasiness of it all,

Joy

Splattered across my face,

Despite all of the kinks the cold brings out,

A childlike wonder s...

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And so it begins. Or ends

The seasons change and as

September dies lies forgotten

Like Summer, Autumn October

Rears. Not misty mellow fruitfullness

With rusty leaf colour bright splashing

Hedgerow and tree russet yellow brown,

Mists that turn to rain and wind and heavy

Rain splashing in the track ruts and puddles

Around the farm;  every field soggy with all the

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Autumn arrives at last, unseasonably late.

Frustrated at being forced to wait,

she makes her displeasure known

in a sudden, howling rainstorm that threatens more

than the dying leaves that are her due.

But she finds herself part-thwarted in her mission.

Others have shown their anger before:

the best plum tree felled by the surprise late snow of April;

the elderberries ...

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In the dimming garden
beneath the belt of Venus
fingers grip a bottle
a nightcap alone

Finally, I belong
finally, I belong to someone
how I’ve run from this
for so long

Now, nothing makes me happier
nothing makes me feel more sure
of anything
than knowing that you’re waiting

There were so many jokers
in the deck
the two of hearts, too many cards
and still dealing, still dealin...

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As Autumn starts to come this way

It is time to reflect upon the day.

Do you see the leaves fall to the ground?

Softly, gently, without a sound?

Do you see the frost and mist and dew?

Do you hope the sky is still blue?

Do you feel the fresh, cool, crisp air?

And shall you find warmer clothes to wear?

Hibernation starts at these times,

As small creatures hope fo...

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When summer turned to autumn

It took me by surprise.

It made me feel so sad.

It made me feel so wise,

To smell the fallen leaves

On the misty morning air,

To think of coming winter

And not to really care.

There's a beauty and a sweetness

In the dying of the year.

There's a mellowing completeness

As the long days disappear.

There's a turning, tur...

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Three Times

On a thunderous evening

In the still of the storm,

We bounce our baubles of time-passed

Upon tables animated by waved forks,

Dis investing the plates

Of their succulence and garnish.

In the chilly morning, outside

We say again, “Autumn is here”,

Putting away our ideas

Of what the world should become.

We break the earth and rake together

The...

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The fluttering of the autumnal flags

clinging onto the last hope

of the now distant summer

brittle and brown they hang on

for dear life to their arboreal home.

The bark, it protects and guards the

living trunk against the bite of the

Northerly wind while the leaves

they suffer stoically the chilly breeze.

One final breath, and they are pulled

from their earthly space

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An autumn in November
Looks like a crying dame.
Afraid to lose her temper
She is in the oldest game.

A modest dress she wears, 
She loves the melodrama, 
She wants to see who cares
And stays in the nirvana.

She cries because of feelings, 
She sadly looks around, 
She hides her every evening, 
The sorrow she has found.

Angry with her reflection, 
She rarely looks at puddles.
But...

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Before I go

Let me drink this rich wine

Let me sing my delight

This gold red dawn has promise:

vibrant with the cold sun

vanishing valley mists

leave damp spider web to shimmer

mistdrops on the long reeds

and ungathered lawn leaves

damply shining

against the muted green of wet grass.

This amber morning has perfection:

wonderfully wooded leaf tints

golden...

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The color of my mood is autumn.

It’s high time to write a poem…

The sights are marvelous and amazing.

Some trees are just blazing.

Like an artist the nature paints.

Little by little the warmth faints.

 The trees are razing their leaves,

More often the weather deceives.

Guess, what could you impress?

When autumn weaves a colorful dress!

What frightens us in a fall?

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He watched the leaves float

in the pond

windmoving on the surface

drop-pitted by rain,

leaves, orange-brown against the black depths

He watched the leaves stick

to the patio

wetgluing to the slate

slickened by the storm,

leaves, orange-brown against the black stone

He watched the leaves move

on the trees

wildwaving off the branches

leafstripped by t...

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Black steel

curling wrought iron

balustrade

Beneath me

coffee steam

and noise

rise

and a poet

sits talking

animatedly

his foot jiggling

as he gesticulates

outside

autumn sun

shines on wet roofs

and casts

tree shadows

on house walls

outside

the sea is rising

while

London sinks

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I, dreamlost,

wake

to golden leaves of beech

sunlit

from my bed

as airdew clouds over the hedge

rise and vanish

as the eastern horizon above the valley

is lost, sunk

beneath dawndrifts of mist

not yet warmed to fade

beneath the clear blue sky;

the uncut grass of the dew-wet lawn,

droplet bent:

cool promise as

I, barefooted,

explore

the cusp of the...

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I hear the pitter patter outside my window
So soothing and melodic to my ears now
The rain outside is pouring down
Creating a melodic soothing sound
I again start to finally breathe
As this cleansing process sets me free
The noise it makes charms me
Often helping me see clearly
I long for Autumn to soon come around
It's the rainy season, I have found
The water trickling from the sky
Has...

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Low early autumn sun

a lone long strand of spider silk

                stretched across the window glass

                above a tiny downy feather like a snowflake

shivering in the breeze

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Below the incurious sheep on the hill

                that stare at me as they endlessly chew

The sun is warm and I perch on a stone to watch quietly

As it is reflected off the surface of the lake:

                the part not covered with pond weed

                where flies dip and buzz

                dragonflies and damselflies dart

                     and hover:

    ...

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Autumn leaves through the front door. 

The frightened leaves of the cherry trees 

Flee with the aid of the wintery breeze 

Get caught up in the metal frame 

Of the iron gate that stands tight shut. 

Their autumnal hues and end of the year  

Brittleness complete the picture 

Of the end of one season  

but also the beginning of 

a time of renaissance. 

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The rustle of the leaves in the air so dark

The black color of the autumn falls

The whistle of the wind, cool and covert

The striking chill, or lack thereof

The brightness of the moon that shines dull

The freshness of the invigorating air

The comeliness of the sky in bloom

The absence of invalid existence

The want for peace and quietude

The calmness and almost everlastin...

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The sky in the evening has a

Red tint, a glow

Hot air balloons float by, all

Is tranquil and slow

Already the colours are changing

On the bushes and trees

And the conkers are falling in

The gentle breeze

Let's walk the country lanes

Kick leaves up high

No more wayside flowers

They just wither and die

Make the most of the wild weather

We Have enjoyed today

...

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Sometimes, inspiration and imagination have strange effects.

De Jeune

Swallows dive, swoon

like wind-swayed ink drops

down, and beyond the light:

swallowed by the sky,

flown blue, over

road-birds – honed

by simple flight.

Like arrows in Canada

in thunderhead afternoons:

clouds rolling, rutting hinds

in migration, pounding sand-trails,

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As we pass through this Autumn realm,

See the valley bound wraiths of mist

Withdrawing like a tide from the willow

Islands of the marshland

With their starkly black boughed trees

Damply dripping with the mist's remains,

Chill air swirls in the rising breeze, and

Black starlings line the wires beyond a barn

But the red kite in his higher flight

Is lost to sight

       ...

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Solitude

Autumn solitude
in a world of two colours
the rush of the wind.

Chris Hubbard

2016
 

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And then, suddenly, it was calm - the morning wind which threw

rain hard against the window panes and sent beech leaves rushing

across the grass to pile gold-brown against all that the borders grew,

all slowly dulling their greens to wet, muted browns, brushing

the soil as their leaves curl and droop - vibrant Spring-strength gone,

fading sadly.

                         The wind ...

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