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What a noble thing it is,
to leave a blossoming flower to bloom—
maybe plucking a leaf or two
to give growing petals precious room.

As you stroll past the blooms each day,
you encourage their budding hues.
Their fragrance greets you,
hugging you in their delicate perfume.

Soon a familiar chill meets you;
and a familiar grief settles within you.
As the blossoms wilt,
your steps grow slower,
hoping to cling to just a moment of color.

Soon to be surrounded
by Death and Decay,
even if only for a while—
Pondering an earthly truth,
as true as the birds sing:
Nobody gets to keep
a beautiful thing.
Maya Red May 15
Two souls on a bench where autumn glows—
gold leaves falling, time slows,
wordless connection as day dims,
their silhouettes merged at the rims.
Bekah Halle May 11
Repeatedly, I have gathered you.
And yet you still fall, **** leaves, you're like a floating fault!
Killing me softly with your incessant grin;
Endlessly gloating: "I've got more where they've come from!"
Declares MN as she blows her windy, willowy waves of air through the trees; nice breeze but...






"Come on, give me a break!" I shriek.
Looking back over old poems, I noticed one: "Afternoons on the back deck (https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4862646/afternoons-on-the-back-deck/) " and thought, "No time for whiskey when I have to rake!" Ha! MN = Mother Nature
Zywa May 10
A day at the beach,

autumn does something to me --


but I don't know what.
Poem "De dood dook op vermomd als sinterklaas" ("Death appeared disguised as Santa Claus",  Bart Chabot)

Collection "Moist glow"
Bekah Halle May 1
It's been snowing last
Night, golden leaves of Autumn
Cover the once-green grass,
Hiding the Summer days.
Button-up, little lady,
It is time to go into hiding.

Do we all need a season,
Of hiding? Cocooning? Intimacy
With our Creator? To be remade without hesitation
A squall of geese squawks
Overhead, moving on...

With Mother Nature.
Shane Apr 24
Falling, like autumn leaves,
Drifting through the air,
Guided by the wind,
In shades of red and yellow fair.
But as they touch the ground,
Their colors start to fade,
Turning brown and battered,
Before they pass away.
Beaten, tattered, and torn,
All hopes of happiness forlorn.
Stephen Knox Apr 14
When telling someone of these things that you know.
It may cause the look of confusion to grow.

Ideas from you, over heads they do zoom.
Acquire less problems by reading a room.

Call you a ****** and locking you down.
The brotherhood hidden, inside every town.

A better solution, is try to lay low.
Think through your words before letting them go.

Wait when you're with someone, that has the sight.
Giving no judgement to wrong or to right.

All of the knowledge that's flowing to you.
In some space and time, it will always be true.

Stop wasting your time, telling those that can't see.
This group of people, will never be free.

Instead look to those that can see and that care.
They're often the ones, that the children all stare.

So chose very wisely, to those that you talk.
Find that the middle's the right place to walk.
Artis Apr 6
Mother nature sings,
Mother nature weeps of joy,
She rushes to open every window,
Letting the euphoria sink in,
She reaches out and hugs the world,
Her voice so powerful,
Her golden tears dripping down,
Turning everything a fairytale,
Opening up her golden gates.

The trees they have long been deprived of mother natures touch,
At last, there seen, she hugs them tight,
For they have waited far too long-
The leaves turn crimson,
As she gently paints them.

The people wake up to natures gift,
The wind warm yet it still brushes you away, it echoes autumn's name.
Everything is a warm hug,
The world is maturing,
A toddlers dream,
So full of color-
A real life color book,
Full of crimson—gold and amber too.

Waking up in natures arms.
With sparkle in its eyes.

The world,
Wakes up,
On the day of autumn.
Elo Apr 3
tawny leaf-littered
autumn's cold chill
amber sun, filtered
one tree, one hill

smoky-water rains
water scented earth
heart-loss pains
worms unearth'd

bristled seeds drift
sunset winds, rest
fluff and dust admidst
a heaving chest

sun-warmth falter
cloud coats gold
body upon an altar
everything turns cold
Meggi Mar 30
Always autumn in me
The plunge to the ground
The pull of the wind
I approach the end as autumn does
Slowly,
                    
                     Lingering in cold mornings

Never winter in me
Never snow or ice
Always only the movement towards
If it is autumn always
There may not be any spring
One cannot be reborn
                     In such a chill as this
There may never be summer
                     In such a wind as this
Autumn in my soul
This movement unto shall be enough for me
                     This movement unto shall be enough for me
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