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Don’t Worry, Kid – Promote Yourself

bluebirdxxxxxxxxx
I shed my skin many years ago.

At the back of those high trees in junior school.
That never ever seemed to grow gold in autumn.

It’s still there I bet – petrified. Old. stone skin.
Knees supporting a chin somehow still held high.
With a muddy arse on blooded school trousers.

Just still lacking whatever that place kept
Telling me I lacked.

We are different people him and I
He is my Bukowski’s bluebird
The boy I nurture and protect. As me and my own.

No one sees him – no one hurts him.

Only problem is –
He tells me what he used to tell everybody
“I’m fine, nothing to worry about, I just fell over”

I wish I didn’t know any different.

-Christopher Flame

christopherflame.wordpress.com

Autumn Requiem

When the green of summer changes to an autumn glow,

When the sun settles in the western skies,

When the hours of sunlight get less and less each day,

When the flowers of the field say their goodbyes,

We can hear the music of the autumn requiem,

Which reminds us that each year part of nature dies.

When the birds flock together and prepare to fly away,

To seek food and warmth in foreign land,

When hedgehogs look fora place to hibernate,

It’s a sure sign that winter is close at hand,

The music of the autumn requiem can be heard,

It’s a message which is easy for us to understand.

When the apples on the trees are ripe for picking,

And the grain harvest has been safely stored away,

When the seed for next years harvest has been sown,

Farmers can relax in the calmness of an autumn day,

As they listen to the music of the autumn requiem,

That reminds them that seed time and  harvest will   never pass away.

This promise of god is one on which they can rely,

Knowing that their success depends upon natures cooperation,

Knowing  that hard work on their part is essential,

If they are to provide for the needs of the nation,

But as they listen to the autumn requiem,

They are reminded that god is part of the equation.

By Ron Martin

Autumn – Promote Yourself

tree-on-aura_edited-1

gentle wispy breeze
subtle shadows dance on walls
leafy branches dip

and as the days grow shorter….

crowning of Autumn
caramel copper cascade
satisfying crunch

Guila Greer

Autumn is my favorite time and I have written a poem of this glorious season.
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honeyquilts@gmail.com

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“Autumn” – Promote Yourself

autumn landscape
Autumn is like an old book:
Marred spines turn mean yellow,
staples rust red-orange.

Every stained page is stressed
by a splat of color. Rough-red,
like an old tavern,

we become hungry birds
and prepare for fall.
Shape and shadow are candied citron

as lanterns turn bitter yellow. Autumn
is a red fox, a goblet filled with dark wine,
a hot chilli pepper with smoky eyes.

Pressed leaves take in the colors
of seafood paella and saffron; these leaves
are like death, climaxing with a smile.

Autumn: Her dress is a net of mussels;
dark shelled, it covers up
summer’s weather-beaten body.

So pull out your boots
and stand on an aged, wood floor
like an evergreen.

Dear Gillian and Thomas Sims,

I was wondering if you would like to add the following short poem to your collection?

It was first published, Online (about.com), a few years ago.

Thank you,

Mary Hamrick
Tallahassee, Florida

A winters night

A Summer’s breeze

A Winter’s night 

A Spring leaf An Autumn bright 

These are the things I no longer see,

Due to the things that haunt me

A torn limb, shattered bones,

Broken dreams and awful wounds

Why should one forego these scenes?

Learn again to live your dreams 

Cooling breeze on a summer’s night 

A roaring fire, curled up tight 

Dew drops on flowered fields 

Falling leaves into piles I can dream,

I can hope For old scenes to help me cope

One new day I shall see,

Old welcome memories

 But for now, I can only see,

new scenes that taunt me

In my dreams, in my head,

haunting things full of dread

Of a life lived too fast,

Wishing to regain my past

Something good and something fresh

A bright new view for me to look to,

A whole new world for my future……

Dan Fry

NOTTINGHAM POET

Autumn – Promote Yourself

description-of-autumn

Night time falls soft upon the Earth

Like a shroud for he who lies dormant until the lithe Spring

Balance of light to dark becomes bent and rounds until the cold is spent

Leaves touched gold by faerie hands, turn old and red and fall upon the ground

Autumnal triumph once again is welcomed with open arms by those who hear

The Harvest Moon, is a greeting from my mother, that warms me

September’s equinox is the gateway to comfort

Bracing for the coolness, I step into the change and all of its splendor

Cloak wrapped tightly against the wind, there is magic liveliness in the air

Candles lit, the hearth is too, tea is made, & I am cozy, ready with a book, and a blanket

Renewal comes with the first cold as peace and silence return to the once bright world

This heart of sweet rich darkness is finally breathing, beating strong, and at home again

High above, the sand hill cranes call against the heavens once more

My child-self rises present above the trials of life

-Kaite Erwin

Autumn and Winter

autumnwwwwwwwww

The nights are drawing in now
You can feel a chill in the air
The winds are getting colder
As it whistles through your hair

The leaves are turning golden
Still clinging to the trees
But they don’t stand a chance
Brought down by a gentle breeze

The frosts will soon be upon us
Spreading its carpet of white
Covering all before it
A phantom of the night

Then the fog descends in silence
See it swirling all around
Covering everything it touches
Clinging to the ground

Most of the birds have migrated
A squirrel building its nest
Scurrying around to fill its larder
Looking forward to the well earned rest

As we drift out of autumns clasp
Winter will take the stage
Bringing the north wind and snow
With blizzards and winter rage

When it’s all over and done with
We look forward to better things
For we know that nature is stirring
A breath taking beauty she brings

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Exits and Entrances

 
 
 
 
barn-door
 
 
 
Autumn stood at the crossroads
 
Wearing a golden coat of plenty
 
Giving a last look at the year
 
Surrounded by a shallow mist
 
A russet door stood ajar
 
Then burst off its hinges
 
Remnants of leaves took flight
 
Autumn’s residue trampled by
 
A darkling thug
 
A braggart and thief made
 
Its entrance
 
Faceless and hooded
 
Breathing frosted air
 
Hands of cold compressed steel
 
That held the dying autumn
 
By the throat
 
This mellow boy gasped
 
His November smile slid
 
Into the deadly snarl of
 
December
 
Dark shortened days of
 
December
 
Winter stood with autumn
 
In his arms
 
Hues of faded reds and
 
Tainted greens bled slowly
 
From the fallen season.
 
 
Stephen Holloway.
 
 
 
 
• I like to walk and notice the change in seasons.  Using human form to depict the autumn and winter gave me some scope to see them as the frail disappearing season of beautiful hues, and the brash, bullying season of darkness and chill – making a terrifying entrance.
 
 
 
 

AUTUMN LEAVES ARE FALLING

What does Autumn mean to you ? 

Let us know at .. poetreecreations@yahoo.com

September

 

 

September is a month

When nature is slowing down

It is the onset of autumn

When the leaves are turning brown

 

Birds start their migration

In flocks of every kind

A majestic synchronization

A sight that will blow you mind

 

The hedgerows in all their glory

With spectacles of colour so bright

All the days getting shorter

As the days give into night

 

The squirrels scurrying around

Rummaging through the leaves

Collecting building material

For their nests up in the trees

 

The nights become colder

The frost will appear on the ground

Nature starts to go to sleep

Leaves fall silently without a sound

 

The harvest all been gathered in

The farmers ploughing their field

Sowing all their winter seed

For next years harvest yield

 

Autumn prepares for the winter

That will freeze all within

Keeping nature cosy and warm

Until the onset of spring

Malcolm Bradshaw

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