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 Oct 2014
Peter Cullen
Some leaves fall before their time,
others falling with this rhyme.
Synchronized inside my mind,
everything at one with time.

The breeze which sweeps the forest floor,
the will, the want, the joy of more.
The knowing, that what's right will lead,
to everything we really need.

Like the seasons, passing on.
Each with reason.
Each with song.
Words lost with the fading light,
as me and you walk through the night.
 Oct 2014
SøułSurvivør
a
wee
leaf fell
into a stream
as leaves are wont
to do.   the water carried it   away
it's boating to persue. the fragile
leaf then came to grief in a
swirling thrall, it's just not
fair, it said to air i did
not ask for
f
a
l
l


soulsurvivor
catherine jarvis
(c) october 6, 2014
There's a lesson
Here somewhere
 Oct 2014
Debbie Jean Embrey
upon its limbs
the robin sings
baby birds tweet
for their mother

hung from above
an old swing sways
small children play
filled with laughter

the old oak tree
holds memories
upon each branch
another story

upon its limbs
leaves start to fall
softly below
brown, green, and yellow

I won't forget
the times shared there
as the robin sings
in the old oak tree
 Sep 2014
SG Holter
What happened?
Where did the year since
Last fall go?
Was it really a year ago?

I could write a trilogy
Of bricks on all
Its events. On
What was wasted,
Given, lost, paid.
What was earned or stolen.
What was spent.

I did good:
It all went.

A year so full of fire.
Of tragedy, drama, of
Laughter like thunder, love
Like lightning. Naked skin against
Ice crusted snow,
Naked skin against
Warmer, naked skin.

I remember
Screaming at the skies; my
Curses and whys,

Then resting my knees
On the same spot of
Forest floor, thanking
All gods for all things new,
And for all that I held before.

Nothing is ever lost.
Even loss is gain.
I wouldn't know the depth of
This bliss, if my life had
Been free from pain.
(I know it's a cliché.
But I'll use it again. And again.)

Hello, Birch Tree.
Nearly stripped, ready for snow.
Brother Pine Tree,
Still wearing your deep green
Porcupine Petals.
You both frame "Home" to me.

Autumn flu; fever like lava in
My veins and muscles.
I face away from the TV
-Towards the window facing north-
Fields and tree trunks
Sharing the same shade of
Soil.
Crimson Oak. Periwinkle sky.

Rainbow like water and oil.

Let these be the last things
I see before I die.
They witnessed my victories,
Failures too,
But never me merely "try".

It all boils down to attitude.
Inhaling all that  
The winds may carry;
Exhaling mostly
Gratitude.

Everything,
Everywhere,  
Is brand new.

Every single
Passing

Second.
 Sep 2014
nivek
summer is disappearing into the ground
all her leaves are fading
she is becoming old, frail
once again she folds her bright clothes
and the grey winter blankets fetched out
Autumn approaches
hiding her dance of decay
beneath russet skirts.

Evenings bleed early
through chill days
bringing steel dawns.

All falls silent
as leaves pirouette gaily
to the swansong of summer.

Birdsong threads remain
as harmony takes flight
to sheltered shores.

Autumn approaches,
bitter winter tracing steps
in her glorious wake.
 Sep 2014
NuurSeraph
I walk upon the patchwork shadows of the forest floor. My eyes are hypnotized. My stride falls in time with the rhythm of a fickle nature. An open clearing comes across my field of vision, my Mesmer broken by sprawling lawns of soft down green. Like a gleeful child, I run the perimeter of the vast expanse. With eyes skyward I spin around till treetops and sky become one. Loose footing breaks a dizzy tumble to the forest floor. A light head and light mind have I to close my eyes, drift peaceful sleep in heavens bed.
This is a journey of distraction and focus~ finding rewarding pleasure in a playful retreat.
 Sep 2014
Xander King
I see you in the Fall
The red leaves whipping in the wind like your hair flowing behind you.
The chaotic movement connect to something
strong
sturdy
safe.
I see you in the fall.
The wind screaming in my ear
like you when the schizophrenia kicked in
terrifying
but beautiful
in a broken sort of way.
I see you in the fall.
Like the flowers that bend towards the slightest glimmer of sunlight
just as you would hold onto any ray of hope that came your way
like it was the last time you'd see it
I see you in the fall
as the trees show their branches
it leaves falling like your hair did
Beautiful
despite it's baldness
I saw you in the fall.
But now it's winter and like the leaves on the trees
You are gone.
This poem is to my mom who died of cancer, fall was her favorite season, and is now mine too.
 Sep 2014
Phosphorimental
By the end of this poem, those once vibrant
shall slough off in horizons of necrosis.
As I tap out completion,
their summer cedes to countless performances;
actors bow before the closing curtain of Autumn.

The maelstrom of summer-lovers lulls to a murmur
And the great Mevlana’s couplets and Khayyam’s quatrains
Float away on the formations of down-bound geese.
You’ll hear the Doppler shift of devotion’s goodbye
On the whines of the locomotive’s whistle.

By the end of this poem, the thistle fades
from heliotrope to gun metal gray.
The clandestine scent of “once-whens”
Wafts into a future of “now-agains.”
Yet, this new Fall is bittersweet.
Before another ******* of trees,
a red rose blushes in reminiscence.

By this poems end, I’ll be in love
with the chill of an approaching season
wearing the brightest flower in my garden of poetry
One last choke on the rising smoke
as the last painful stanza goes
Into the solemn procession
toward the sacred pyre of leaves.
A Dare to Poets... take the last 3-5 word of each line and assemble into a poem...watch what happens:

…Those, once vibrant
…In horizons of necrosis
…Tap out completion
…To countless performances
…Before closing curtain of autumn
…Summer-lovers lulls to a murmur
…Khayyam’s quatrains
…Of Down-bound geese
…Shift of Devotion’s goodbye
…Of the locomotives whistle
…The thistle fades
…To gun metal gray
…Of “once whens”
…Of “now-agains”
…Fall is bittersweet
…******* of trees
…In reminiscence
…I’ll be in love
…An approaching season
…In my garden of poetry
…The rising smoke
…Of a stanza goes
…Solemn procession
…Sacred pyre of leaves.
 Sep 2014
Poetic T
And the seasons changed
And they died
From
Life,
To
Passing,
There death was beautiful
They changed,
From what was
To what was to become,
And the wind took them
A million lives
Floating
Blown from there
Cradle
to
Grave,
Colours of decomposition
Fly through the air
Brittle,
Dry,
Life,
Now gone
The Season had changed
*And A Million Did Fall
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