Lovely Seasons

August

I've tried to etch with ink your days
Of sultry heat and starry nights.
But though a field of words I graze,
Not one I find can reach your heights,
Nor blaze your chaise or light your fraise.

What words can I recite to you?
For you, O August, are ablaze
Because the sun has loved you too.
And so I hold no sway or ways
For words through poesy to coo.

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

The Last Winter Storm

On fields of hay below a darkened sky,
Where scarecrows slept away the frigid night,
A sobbing winter blared her last goodbye.

As spring prepares the ground where lilies lie,
A storm has placed a coat of pearly white
On fields of hay below a darkened sky.

The ground abounds with snow that rises high,
But spring arranges blooms for our delight;
A sobbing winter blared her last goodbye.

At dawn's approach, the storm is but a sigh —
A mournful wail that fades at daybreak light —
On fields of hay below a darkened sky.

The flakes that hug the air begin to die
As children rush to view the snowy sight;
A sobbing winter blared her last goodbye.

The birds have sensed that early spring is nigh
And break in rhythmic songs that rise in flight.
On fields of hay below a darkened sky,
A sobbing winter blared her last goodbye.

Image by mollyroselee from Pixabay

End of Summer

When summer left and took her warming shawl,
The birds toward the south began to fly.
The leaves of wizened trees began to dye
As shorter days announced the hues of fall.

In town, a weary man lies down to rest;
His lawn, pristinely kept, begins to sleep.
But he recalls that there's more sod to reap
Before his pampered grass with snow is pressed.

But there across the street, a lawn, not kept,
Is dressed with nutsedge weed and carpet grass.
The drizzly morning sees the mower pass,
And one misty-eyed dandelion wept.

Image by MariaM31 from Pixabay

Autumn's Hand

I reach across for autumn's hand
When leaves begin to ride the air,
To walk amid the changing land.

Though I yet have some days unplanned,
And winter waits to bring her glare,
I reach across for autumn's hand.

I pine for spring and summer sand,
But autumn calls, so I prepare
To walk amid the changing land.

The fallen leaves with red are tanned,
So till I meet with winter's stare,
I reach across for autumn's hand.

The frigid winds will come as planned;
The trees will wave with branches bare
To walk amid the changing land.

When summer yields to fall's demand
And towns prepare a Sunday fair,
I reach across for autumn's hand
To walk amid the changing land.

Image by ddzphoto from Pixabay

Autumn's Return

As summer ends its days of jade
And frost announces fall's return,
The leaves prepare their yearly blush —
A reddish-brown we soon discern.

While autumn tints the waiting trees
And verdant grass returns to sleep,
The birds migrate to southern lands,
Though others choose the fall to keep.

When shorter days have matched the nights,
An earthy scent imbues the air.
The piles of leaves are musky-sweet,
A fragrance cherished everywhere.

As parents watch their children play,
They muse about their youthful days.
When young, on leaves, they too had played,
And laughter rose like songs of praise.

Image by Valiphotos from Pixabay

Winter's Hold

Her entrance seems enchanting every year,
Arrayed in white to please a viewer's eyes.
But blight can soon replace that thin veneer,
Revealing days of gray in her disguise.

She's dressed in gowns of bold and stunning white
Which drape the trees as branches bend and sway.
The hues of autumn's stay have lost the fight;
The leaves begin to dry and fly away.

Her flowing hair descends on barren trees
And lands on naked branches till they bow.
But early spring can break her swaddling freeze
And ease the icy grip from every bough.

Her frosty coat can seem like paradise,
But spring suspends the spell of her device.

Image by MabelAmber from Pixabay

November's Early Kiss

A symphony of brilliant red,
October weaves like silken thread.
Those budding weeks, of blushing trees,
Of yellow-orange leaves, can ease
An aging mind to reminisce
The years of glowing golden bliss.

But once October's leaves have spread,
November can be seen ahead.
It brings along the shorter days,
Of downy snow and morning haze,
Which pleases all who long for this,
To feel November's early kiss.

Image by Heibe from Pixabay

An Autumn Path

The path he takes this early day
Is dressed in dew and straws of hay.
The morning mist obscures his view;
The barn, though near, seems far away.

The sleepy sun begins to rise,
And light prepares to climb the skies.
He sees the path much clearer now,
As life awakened fills his eyes.

He senses changes autumn brings,
A mix of scents from lovely things.
The air, perfumed by turning leaves,
Is fragrance loved by serfs and kings.

Above he hears migrating birds,
Their calls of joy, like soothing words.
They tell of lands where warmth awaits;
A transient home for flocks and herds.

The cows have stirred and move about,
And roosters crow as piglets rout.
A dog begins to run to him,
His faithful friend and eager scout.

So much to do while autumn stays,
Before the freeze of winter’s gaze.
And yet, for now, he walks the path,
And sings a psalm of morning praise.

Image by stux from Pixabay

Autumnal Days

Her return can be seen when trees
Begin to blush at summer's end.
A signal sensed with every breeze
When soothing, cooling nights portend
Her new return as leaves descend.

She stalls the days of winter's freeze
When trees, whose branches are ablaze,
Display their best with glorious ease.
A paradise for all who gaze
At the colors of her gown and fraise.

Cerise and crimson leaves can please
The pleading eyes of all who yearn,
Who keep in wait for days like these,
To muse, to love, and also learn.
But short, too short, is her return.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Winter's Breath

The sudden chill of winter's sigh
Caresses me when autumn flees.
My meager warmth she tries to pry,
While planting kisses, cold and dry;
With icy breath she starts to tease.

I'm bundled as I walk along
But still can feel her hands on me.
She whispers near my ears her song,
Her wintry hold upon me strong;
A frosty kiss she plants with glee.

But shortly I will see the one
Who warms my soul with her embrace.
As frigid winter ends her run,
Her icy tears will be undone,
When spring begins to kiss my face.

Image by TanteTati from Pixabay

Seasons

O, stunning fall, your saffron gown,
Of crimson shades, without compare,
Has turned the leaves a scarlet brown,
The tears you'll shed at winter's glare.

Arrayed in pearly downy white,
She spreads her dress across the land.
Your tinted art will suffer blight
When you depart at her command.

But even she to spring will cede
When flowers rise on warming days.
For winter's dress cannot impede
The seeds that raise their arms in praise.

And still beyond the days of spring,
Of blossoms blushed in colors grand,
Her sister, summer, longs to bring
Her dress of jade and ocean sand.

Image by Noupload from Pixabay

Spring's Promise

Her softest kiss she offered me today
As gentle warmth embraced my longing heart.
But winter's frosty hands pulled us apart
When cold and icy snow the day turned gray.
I begged for spring to stay and share her glow.
Instead, she placed a glancing peck on me.
She sauntered off to let her sister be
And took her warmth to yield to wintry snow.

But as she left, I sensed a parting kiss,
As if in words, to set my mind at ease:
"Do wait, fear not my sister's cold embrace,
For days she has before I take my place."
And so, as winter rides a gelid breeze,
I pine for lady spring, whose touch I miss.

Image by ArtTower from Pixabay

When Spring Arrives

The calls of birds resound outside
When spring arrives, a sprightly bride.
The budding flowers rise with pride,
Their brilliant colors amplified.

The rain revives the grassy side,
Where verdant green is spreading wide.
The rabbits, now with food supplied,
Step out with youngsters unified.

The insects crawl the countryside,
All types and shapes and brightly dyed.
The squirrels play in turn beside
The leafy trees, then branches ride.

I smile as spring serves as a guide
Of nature's beauty magnified.
Tonight I'll dream, quite satisfied,
That early spring revived what died.

Image by Larisa-K from Pixabay

Winter's Call

O, can you hear her? Yonder autumn days?
A siren's voice, as silent steps she takes?
Her nuanced hymn brings frosty morning haze
And warns the trees to brace for pearly flakes.

She pairs her feigned allure with lovely sights,
Then softly laughs when warmth she steals from me.
I fear her touch, for long will be the nights;
She'll hold my face until spring sets me free.

And yet, her comely gown I yearn to see
As she performs her waltzes in the day.
So soft her smile as she begins her spree,
My heart applauds the dazzling white ballet.

Through autumn's haze, her words I faintly hear,
She pleads with me, her cold arms not to fear.

Image by DreamyArt from Pixabay

The Last Red Tear

The old tree holds a last red leaf;
This autumn's stay has been too brief.
Now winter soon will take the stage;
She brings along her white motif.

The leaves that lie around the tree
From dormant boughs have broken free.
But one remains while autumn stays,
Forestalling winter's early spree.

But as all leaves before this guard,
Whose reddish face the wind has scarred,
Its strength to hold in place, will fail,
Then winter's door will be unbarred.

When winter's breath tomorrow nears
And frigid air with snow appears,
The leaf will yield to wintry wind,
The last of autumn's crimson tears.

Image by Kathas_Fotos from Pixabay

Reminders of Autumn

He walks in thought when dawn her veil has tossed

And early morning shares an early frost.

He knows that autumn soon will have to leave,

Allowing winter's hands to chill the eve.

A painting she has left among the trees

Of colored leaves that shiver with the breeze.

They dance when winter's breath begins to blow,

Then glide toward the ground before the snow.

That beauty he absorbs while walking on,

Then stops to breathe the air of early dawn.

Through morning haze, he views the stunning art,

The colors left by fall to warm his heart.

He takes a leaf that lies beside a tree,

Remembrance of what autumn days can be.

Image by jplenio from Pixabay

Autumn Tears

The change of scene at summer's end
Restores the days of early fall.
The trees begin their yearly blend,
A mix of hues from autumn's shawl.

The countryside shows off its leaves
Of gold, yellow, and shades of brown.
But others don the reds that please
The crowds admiring autumn's gown.

When autumn adds its shades of red,
And crimson, scarlet, rust, cerise,
The artists on their canvas wed
Pastels of fall — a masterpiece!

But at the end of her goodbye,
The leaves begin to wilt and bend.
The crown, her pride, begins to die
While shedding tears at autumn’s end.

Image by jplenio from Pixabay

Walking On A Rainbow

I hear the laughter of the breeze

While walking by the swaying trees.

Their leaves have dressed the verdant ground,

Where rainbow colors now abound.

My steps alight on autumn's gown

Of gold and yellow, orange-brown.

The hues of fall, with tints of red,

Are early tears the trees have shed.

I then return to thoughts of you

And wish you here to share my view.

I smile while thinking we could walk

Atop this rainbow as we talk.

Image by Valiphotos from Pixabay

And Heaven Cried

Fertile fields once full of pride,
Dying lands from thirst have dried.
Now undressed, laid bare and sad,
Verdant gowns their form once clad.

Clouds have come from far away,
Silent prayers the valleys send.
Bursts of tears appeared today;
Heaven cried, the land to mend.

Image courtesy of Pexel

A Summer Day

A white summer dress sways in the gentle breeze,
And the hot sun bathes with warmth the land it roams.
Light winds play with the leaves of towering trees,
A leafy haven where birds will build their homes.

New blooming flowers in scented garments glow;
They perfume the air as hummingbirds fly low.
Couples spread their blankets on the grassy field;
They sense summer's touch as their hearts to love yield.

Image by JillWellington from Pixabay

Lazy Summer Days

It seems a dream, the warming touch,
A day of breeze, of clouds and such,
While standing at the ocean's edge,
And breathing life I love so much.

The sand cascades between my toes;
A nuanced bliss the waves compose.
Euphoria causes me to smile
While breathing in the briny rose

I love these lazy summer days,
Of picnics, parks, and warming rays;
Of swimming, running, biking slow;
Of holding hands with hearts ablaze.

Of children playing with their dogs;
Of turtles basking, stretched on logs;
Of mothers baking cakes and pies;
Of ponds that echo songs of frogs.

But summer won't forever last,
Yet here, the ocean's edge so vast,
It seems eternal runs the time,
While standing still, as waves recast.

Image by Pixabay

Songs of Sunset

The sunset soothes my mind on doleful days;
It bathes me in its lustrous orange blush.
When crickets start to chirp at fading rays,
The trees ring out with hymns from Swainson's thrush.

The graceful ballad sends my spirit higher;
My words begin to flow as if a song.
My mind is filled with lyrics set afire;
It moves my lips to join the splendid throng.

When day and night complete their graceful dance,
And hues begin to fade to twilight sleep,
The stars and moon observe this grand romance,
Then share their dazzling smiles, while dreams I reap.

Image by pixel2013 from Pixabay

Seasons

The annual seasons provide much in the way of inspiration to write about the beauty and delight they offer.

In these poems, the seasons are poetically described and personified, engaging the mind with imagery to further enhance our love and appreciation for the richness surrounding us.

To read a poem, click on its thumbnail image.

Images used under Creative Commons CC0 license, permission from the copyright owner, or are part of the public domain.