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Hebert Logerie Oct 2024
Let's talk about the picturesque beauty of autumn
Of the chiming bells of the Angelus
Of the flowers once pretty and strong, on the lawn
Oh! Autumn, you are a very superb season!

Let's talk about the petals and sepals fallen from the sky
Where the trees are stunned and almost undressed
And the astonished birds which have fallen from the clouds
Oh! Autumn, I love your wondrous and natural smile.

The season of autumn has a sensational scene
A warm and comfortable freshness and a solemn tone
It is the gold of the evening that falls all day long.

It’s the multi-colored leaves and flowers on the vents
Oh! Autumn, you give us much to imagine
And show us how to mimic mystic and golden moments.

Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
David Hilburn Oct 2024
Light has a language
Share the wealth...
Worth is ours, for a quaint rage
Stick out your tongue, we sake health

Waged wars, stirring a shadow
Mete and future heat
Had for arbitrary whence, when owed
Is a clash with empathy, embarrassed to seat...?

An angel at the table of anarchy
Sweet fares, sweeter charity
Marvel with mine, a dead flower is happy
Tell tale harmony, of vivid disparity...

Ought the spare, the special
Lips of virtue, we will know
Water over the bridge, and a succinct smell
Of death playing, at an imagined blow...?

Of a friend, within an eyes shadow
See me, the ironic role of breath
With a moment to decide, a gladdened more
That has bespoken the world, in a day love has let...
taint a tudie, with big ******, itsa a wild smile with a moment to look, and become a rise in the future
Shadow Fowler Oct 2024
seeds, so small
light as a feather
each one, represents
-second chances

perseverant and resilient
tenacity shows strength and ability
to thrive in harshest of conditions
giving opportunity to create
-an amorist

nothing short of a belesprit
an auric flower such
as yourself
you are the quintessence
of all things kind, patient, and sweet
-effortless gentleness

in awe at your ability to be
virile, and yet remain gentle
i enjoy being in this place with you
-esoteric
Zywa Oct 2024
Rustling lanes, winding roads
the rippling on the bank
of the path along the river

wherever the land is not buried
under city, I walk my days
in the smell of rotting

Mushrooms, spider webs
birds in the undergrowth
and dearest to me are the wild
flowers, thistles, chicory
pink anemones and poppies

I admire the gaunt, the sallow
the beauty under
the beauty of
the scars, the life
they pass on
For Maria Godschalk

Collection "Bruises"
Oak trees, Pine trees, Cottonwoods, and Birch
Upon these trees,
birds love to perch
Birds come in all
sizes and colors
Birds calling and chirping
with all the others

Squirrels, Rabbits,
Chipmunks, and Foxes
Scatter the grounds, burrow into holes, and sometimes boxes
Winter, Spring,
Summer, and Fall
They gather thier goodies,
to survive them all

Deer, Moose, Antelope, and Elk
Wander through fields,
woods, and corn silk
Grazing on whatever
nutrition they can find
All hunkering down in these times with thier own kind

Bears, Bobcats,
Cougars, and Wolves
Hibernation, catch prey, climb and attack, the
beautiful, wild dog packs
in droves
Deep dark caves, burrowed holes in the ground,
to wandering forests, and
great big meadows
All these predators seem to come from the shadows

Waves of lavender fields of dreams, like river beds of sand
Fields of flaxen, golden grass waiving with God's hand
Daisies, Buttercups,
Rose's, and Daffodils
Just smell thier sweet scents rise into the hills

Dreams are Wishes,
Wishes are dreams
Wildlife are the makings of everything in between
Flowers are the fragrance of life
The blue skies and
white fluffs of clouds
Take away all the strife...
Copyright ©️ to Julia L Carlson Vogel
Original poem
inthewater Oct 2024
he said he would bring me flowers;
i didn't know the kind he was talking about

he said they're the most beautiful i'll ever see
and he was right
these flowers don't grow from water though

for some reason they only sprout when my friend is around

he gives me the seeds, they fall from my eyes and caress my cheeks
sometimes, I catch them in my hands
usually I just let them go

but he is a generous friend,
always waiting around the corner

i like bouquets but he hates picking his flowers
so he flirts with my mind to capture my heart
and the garden blossoms

i used to hate him and his gifts

not any more,
i think they're graceful and they speak to my soul
Emery Feine Oct 2024
On a firefly lit night, the clouds a quiet grey
Plants blowing from the wind of an ending day
With the calming darkness of an eternal evening
Lit by the fireflies from late May

Dancing flames flutter above the field below
Little stars on the ground shine with their glow
And we'd catch these stars in our little hands
We'd admire their beauty, then let them go

There was a faint warmth that lingered on our skin
And a smile that made us dizzy, like a never-ending spin
You could smell the flowers from a distance away
Then wonder if this is where you should've always been

With laughter circling all around
With a light in the night near the darkened ground
With a heart racing from exhilarating excitement
With the despair of a dream that'll never come back 'round

The clouds, now less loud, are not shaken by a shout cheerful and wild
And now the old flower, whether rose or sunflower, are now not contently watching a child

An ember, thought to last forever, burned down to an ash
A memory, thought to last forever, disappeared in a flash

The fireflies still glide with their pride above the darkened ground
In their flight, lighting up the night, a night now with no sound

A memory, gold and bold, that we didn't know we made
In the wear and tear of life was sure to fade

It's fragile beauty danced up and down the trees
Moonlit night clouds with a serene breeze
Though that day may seem like it could go forever on
Our perpetual dreams are now perpetually long gone

Time seemed to move slowly, yet it was only going faster
As I held in my hands the bright petals of a radiant purple aster
If not for those fireflies, we would not be able to see
How this late evening in May would be stuck with us eternally

If we could go back one more time
Back to the night of the firefly's shine
If we could go back to that golden night
Then that would be the most wondrous sight

Though we were all there as kids, just to play
We have no more need to go back or stay
If I returned there, like we had always swore
There would be no one there anymore

Firefly lit nights seemed to last forever on that late evening in May
But like the firefly's dimming light, not even time was there to stay.
this is my 82nd poem, written on 2/15/24. I had to write this for an English class last year and I got the highest score yippee !!
Emery Feine Sep 2024
#62
Throughout my long life
I collected a flower each day
And I kept them in a little notebook
When I died, they were the last things I had to say

And my roses, lilies, and yes, dandelions too
Throughout time had begun to rot
But one flower surpassed my days
The victorious blue of a forget-me-not.
this is my 62nd poem, obvi, written on 12/6/23
Erwinism Sep 2024
There are certain smiles that bend the broken crooked,

certain shades of green light that wilt flowers in the field.

It is an ‘as if autumn walked in with a jug of herbicide

and started perfuming life with death.’

Yes, certain smiles that stand on stilts to prop them up.

Smiles leaving someone so bent that they see nothing

save for dirt staring back at them.  

There are certain smiles that bend the broken crooked.
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