Autumn poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of autumn poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on autumn are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Arbor snow of russet, gold falls from the trees, denuded, cold A fairy wind whispers very low ‘The North Wind comes! He soon will blow! ‘ They shiver in silence, feeling raw No sunshine warmth for them to draw Branches
Dreaming autumn night is really an Unspeakable pleasure; he knows it. Therefore when dusk settles on earth Inviting blinking stars to showcase Their tiny births; when coy crickets Being too cold in season’s first dew, That drips from the cold
Beautiful golden haired Autumn Angel Don’t look so sad tonight, if the man you Gave your heart to isn’t here tonight Then do you really need him in your life? If you want my opinion, you deserve A whole lot
Halycon days in perennial Eden Windblown leaves, sunbeam kissed Slumbering Oaks in the autumn sun Sprinkling their leaves one by one As they fall like golden snow Cooler breezes begin to blow And soon the Oaks denuded stand Like skeletons
Dreaming autumn night is really an Unspeakable pleasure; he knows it. Therefore when dusk settles on earth Inviting blinking stars to showcase Their tiny births; when coy crickets Being too cold in season’s first dews, That drip from the cold
This autumn is copper, just like my voice which had escaped and hided in a dome on the banks of a sacred river. I am the one who dried it up on the braids of an African girl tanned by
My name has been written in a piece of letter, waiting for me to come for a warm conversation. I was lost… I was swimming into the imagination of the melancholy. Leaves were embraced in the street. It was autumn.
The red, orange, yellow and gold Flamboyant falling leaves Stirs the autumn in my heart Compelling me to believe To love life’s every color with same vigor Why winter seems so long Fall so short Couldn’t it be longer My
I’m but an Autumn Leaf , Twirling, swirling with winds I play And oft stirred by a squirrel’s feet , The crowning glory now lost and sway All my greens are now russets, yellows, Rambling, roving in golden meadows I sing soft songs
Those leaves weren’t few that shed away But down alive, not much could stay Few were tramped, few had dried It isn’t, that they never tried Few were blown, few were crushed At nights they lived, as roads were hushed
Autumn is one of the four seasons of all Here, the leaves of the trees do fall. Night spreads it’s darkness prematurely And cold ascends with it cavalierly. Nothing’s different in the autumn of life Where the wrinkled cheeks and
We wander in this desperate land. With hopes of anticipation. You hold my hand, I hold yours. Like woven threads in wool. We are fragile leaves in an autumn tree. Ready to fall in this timeless abyss. Nature gives us
The red, orange, yellow and gold Flamboyant falling leaves Stirs the autumn in my heart Compelling me to believe To love life’s every color with same vigor Why winter seems so long Fall so short Couldn’t it be longer My
The autumn breeze blows through the trees whispering secrets known to few from all of his travels in summer under skies of azure blue He tells of flowers smiling when watered by the rain and of butterflies kissing them again
She canters freedom like wind Gallops wilderness like fire And into metallic dreams She blazes banter with reverence- Only to chute through life’s greenbrier- letting seasons mark her deviance! As she gaits, bittersweet love is dinned with a shako of
Now is the season for death. A death that will bring life once again, but for that life we must die now. This is the season for love. A love that will take you further apart, but for that love,
This morning you thrilled me with leaves swirling Tumbling, cascading they zephyr-danced Dregs of the summer’s bright motes falling Heart in a whirl and my soul entranced All of my spirit caught up and laughing Breathless I swooped and I
At the END OF THIS AUTUMN, I am standing Under a barren tree, bleak and exposed TO weather with shedding leaves, There rests a house away from the barn, Decorated with vivid colours of rainbow And maintained by careful hearts
Revelation Brevity of words; No rhyme within its reason. Haiku uncovered. Caught Out Summer rain spatter, Unsettled dusky maiden. Parasol resort. Crow Proclaimers of death; charcoaled anonymity. Murderous union. Prelude to a Fall Bitter autumn wind, Sinks teeth into summer’s
The sun comes up and the sun goes down. Spring Has turned into autumn and now all the leaves Are falling to the ground. White laced woman When will all your dreams come true? Broken Hearted she cries “I know
O vague December strangely mild, Thy leaves are restless, hanging on. No winter wind has yet blown wild With days so warm. The birds fritter and greet each dawn; No flights of fall have fain begun. Alas, December’s warm and
Someday across the sea you will tell a story About this time And knowing me Without a name But all the same Air brushed in a tone That paints me sad And bitter And alone Too bad In 5000 words
I try to move on At the county fair But the autumn breeze blows Cigarette smoke my way And then I’m back under the dirty sheets With his dirty hands Unwelcome I try to move on In the halls of
Sterling November and I can feel the winds of change Now in the shadow of the moons’ bright light Well we may not have it all together but together we Have it all, somehow that gives me hope Wagon half
The sun won’t appear today Rising elsewhere it kindles flowers In foreign fields; even inspires A crop of melanoma among The fieldhands. But not here. The grey view south is dotted With electric pinpoints and a single Tall cross dim
In the tropical section of the Earth. There stays a period, Brimful of sufferings and pain. That tends to seek, Any and all drop of blood . Then the time has chosen a turn, And brought in a moderate silence,
Beautiful cool sunny Autumn day breezy mid November Monday in LA looking west through that sloped glass wall that runs the length of the house from north to south I hear nothing call nothing at all you’d be braggin over
Looking down, a white silk trail rose just above the river. Meandering just as far as the eye could see. Thus setting the scene filling the start of the day with wonder and glee. Vaporized water rose from the forest
Pendulum strikes as usual One…..Two….Three….. Life span rotates on this formula. Time moves fast- Silent shadow starts to shrink In the form of night. Darkness give way to light Again and again the wheel rotates Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter- Changes
I In that quiet and still moment loneliness hit her, Like an empty vessel, like a roaring shore less ocean. Once she opened her mouth to speak The sluice gates of emotion let loose the words. Words, which tumbled and
she is a blossomed flower she is the autumn leaves she is the first ray of the sun she is the mysteries of love she might be this , she might be that she is even a plucked flower she
our wings grow from the heart but stop on the neck suffocating us we bury the feelings deep in the arteries until the blood has no room to move we spit like the husks of seeds only words that are
Tenuous and stretched are our links Precious, yet an incomplete jigsaw Making it arduous to reach a Safe heaven of human interface. It can whither like the autumn leaves Wearily sinking like the sun at dusk, As if there wouldn’t
How sweet the Autumn breeze Wafting from my window Before this Winter freeze I could see skies are blue; But how would I to know Or how will I In truth, I lie Even as poets do, Saying life is
Like seasons, friendship too changes, As it varies from different ranges. All of a sudden it is bleak, As if it has lost its magic streak. With the passage of time, And this drift at its prime; Has indeed led
Freedom, you are the autumn leaf drifting to the call of the season. Freedom, you are the tune forming in a dreamers mind. Freedom, you are the paint on a wet canvas seeking it’s own path to redemption. Freedom you
Surrounded with the Beautiful Mist, My heart knows, this is life – a gist. No matter how foggy it seems, My soul desires to take the Leap. Faith and Liberation prevails, Only the charismatic peace it exhales. In front of
In case I forget to write about this I want you know I swallowed some words by mistake once And didn’t understand where did they go? I feel something on my fingertips A charming passionate greed Thoughts flow and words
I am by myself But I am not alone. I hear a song From 50 years ago, And a memory Tiptoes through my mind. I am by myself But I am not alone. I hear children laughing And playing in
It’s nice in here, warm and cozy And dark and oh-so-quiet Except for the strange ‘thump-thump’ And the occasional words of love. I’ve heard mama talking to me Telling me of the world out there She talks about squirrels and
You are the one, who makes me laugh, You are the one, who makes me cry, My heart throbs for you, My soul longs for you, I desperately need you by my side. Through summer, through autumn, I need you
She was like a blooming flower on that colorful vase. Swaying away to all that glitters.. flashing smiles, vibrant .. Radiant.. She was a bold reflection of self-doubt, provoked by silence elusive as a dream.. as moon light crossed her
The green butterflies sometimes look light blue in the sun The lemon and lime leaves touch the sky and reflections come The brown tree trunks stand so very tall with branches that winds make hum The moss is like velvet
Clad in blue From top to bottom, Sat beside you, Her long drizzling hairs, On your Face, Her lips near to yours, Slowly and subtly says, Wake up Sweet heart. Wake up sweet heart, For the day has come, And
When lips remain silent, eyes speak Love conquers every beautiful peak Expression comes from a sparking cheek Crazy feelings come from heart to sneak What is out in beloved’s domain When she plays in drizzling rain Love emotions to beauty
Come, we will lie among the petals strewn, To lit grass aglow with love we’ll share, Beneath the turf, what’s there, ask not the moon, Let the past give us the least of care; The wars that passed may still
Who is the shepherd of fate? Nobody knows the answer to date A rhetorical question that provokes hate Seven out of eight Feel we are the masters of our own fate They say we control our mates They say we
She exists in the body, a visual myth Materializing out of stone A solitary figure carefully etched Into the mind’s eye, breathing Brooding, testing the air for its secrets Tasting the wind for things to come She is to my
He was the first man your eyes opened to.. The shivering hand that touched your tiny nose.. The strong arm you cuddled on.. His love that kept brimming but never spilled.. Those eyes that made everything seem within reach.. That
