Evening Air

Cool evening air 

brushed my hair 

caressed my face. 

Promised rain hesitated 

while I swept up 

deep red crisp leaves. 

“A perfect night….a perfect forever”

~ Mary E. Pearson,  The Kiss of Deception

Graceful Autumn

Steady pace, 

cooling air pushed me 

toward home ~ 

until I saw the grace 

that fading leaves share 

with the world. 

Worrying about a sweater 

was the last thing on my mind 

replaced by the beauty that is autumn. 

“No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace 

as I have seen in one autumnal face.”

~ John Donne, The Complete Poetry and Selected Prose

(1572 - 16310

All in a Jumble

Crisp red and gold leaves

nestled in curb and corner, 

scattered on lawns and patios. 

Winds try in vain to fool us ~

fool us into believing 

autumn colours are gone ~

look down and around to see 

these jumbles of colour,

brushed from the trees, 

tucked away at our feet.

“The wind likes making jokes!”

~ Mehmet Murat Ildan, writer

Beneath the Snow

 

like yesterday’s promises

  a light skiff of snow

lay gently on fallen leaves.

“Yesterday I dared to struggle. Today I dare to win.”

~ Bernadette Devlin, politician

For the Noonday Sun

Spring blossoms, 

pink and translucent, 

whisked away too soon 

by cruel winds 

but autumn blossoms 

in gold and red, 

a filter for noonday sun 

give me joy.

“How beautiful the leaves grow old. 

How full of light and color are their last days.”

~ John Burroughs, essayist

(1837 ~ 1921)

Their Own Beauty

 

Brilliant fuschia peonies 

crowned this bush at bloom time. 

Now slender leaves display

their own beauty before 

the fade and sleep of autumn.

“Colours make nature pulsate with life.”

~ Michael Bassey Johnson,  Song of a Nature Lover

Glowing

 

Each leaf ‘a sliver of colour’ ,

gold dust through arching branches.

I am warmed by the golden glow 

as the sun leans toward the horizon.

“Fading birdsong underscores this bottled time,

In butterfly hears, the hourglass stilled sublime.”

~ Stewart Stafford,  A Magic Hour’s Dreaming

Inspired by poem: September Mushrooms by Margaret Atwood

Wind Swept

Thoughts

like crisped leaves 

rustling along the sidewalks 

at the beck and call 

of the wind or my booted feet.

~ the red gold crunch of autumn.

“Anyone who things fallen leaves are dead 

has never watched them dancing on a windy day.”

~ Shira Tamir

Fading Flags

 

Curling leaves

Crumbling leaves

Fading flags of autumn

“I can smell autumn dancing in the breeze. The sweet 

chill of pumpkin, and crisp sunburnt leaves.”

~ Ann Drake

The Chill of Autumn

October, 2008
Hazeldell Orchards, Kelowna

Autumn shows up faithfully each year to the call of the geese gathering flocks; with boisterous winds cold and rough edged.

Bales of straw and hay, rolled and tied, lie quietly in fields of gold, a nest for mice and voles until trucked away.

Leaves, as if by magic, change into their beautiful red, gold, orange hues readying for the final float to the ground.

Fruits, vegetables and grain, 

ripe for harvesting, fill markets 

with abundance for winter 

sustenance and goodness.

Soups and stews bubble and steam

to serve the bounty of harvest 

at the table; warming insides 

to ease the loss of summer.

Sweaters and blankets, their cosy warmth 

for colder days and nights, are 

resurrected from dark cupboards 

~ friendly companions in the chill of autumn.

“I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature.”

~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Bejewelled

Dry earth soaks in cold rain, 

while leaves shelter raindrops 

adrift in the wind.

“We’re as ephemeral as raindrops. 

We all fall, and we all land somewhere.”

~ Robert Charles Wilson, author