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Autumn

September 2011

#032

 

Autumn

It's autumn time again
Dead leaves begin to fall
Conkers on the ground are lain
It's autumn time again
Hot summer days are slain
The thrashing trees are mauled
It's Autumn time again
Dead leaves begin to fall

Mark Crittenden
GROW

 

Fruit Of Her Life

In the spring of her life
She had lived with the generosity,
Of childhood. Blossoming into
Adolescence with buttercups
In her flowing brown hair.

In the summer of her life
She had lived with trust; often
Rewarded, sometimes misplaced.
Blooming into motherhood
With flour in her tied back hair.

In the autumn of her life
She had lived with gratitude
For the blessings bestowed
Maturing with wisdom
Grey streaks in set auburn hair.

Now in the winter of her life
She lived quietly with patience
For the Lord to call her home
Reclining in her green armchair
Soft white snow in her thinning hair.

Jan Hedger
GROW

 

September Blues

My washing pile grows higher waiting for the sun
I cannot wait much longer for the washing to get done.

So today I decided, the dark pile was to go
I sorted out the colours hoping winds would blow.

I do like to see my washing blowing on the line
Seasons are uncertain, the sun can’t always shine.

So I hung them out and watched the sky
The clouds that drifted there on high.

“Oh well” I thought, “At least they’re clean”
There must be sunshine in-between.

Standing in the kitchen, a thunderous roar was heard
Rain poured down, this weather really was absurd.

Now my washing hangs and weeps and I am torn again
To put them in the dryer or leave them in the rain.

© Sally Flood
Newham Writers

 

The Autumn Years

Autumn years have come and gone
With many subtle changes,
Jet black hair streaked with grey
Figure re-arranges.

The girl that was, hides inside
The mirror sees a stranger,
Elegance of the heels so high
Now represents a danger.

Years have vanished in thin air
I never saw the passing,
As children grew and left the nest
We downsized to smaller housing.

Mum then became a nanny
To another generation,
Retirement took its toll
As a full time occupation.

The things we would laugh at
When we were in our prime,
Now don’t seem so funny
Looking back at time.

Hopes of growing old
With fulfilment of ones dream,
Isn’t quite idyllic now
As once to us did seem.

For autumn taught us many things
Like changing of the seasons,
A time to live, a time to learn
The meanings and the reasons.

© Sally Flood
Newham Writers

 

New Season

Autumn has arrived.
We had a lousy summer.
Now kids are back at school
And we are looking forward
To two weeks of decent weather.
The leaves upon the trees
Will soon start turning brown
And fall on to the ground.
They'll dry and curl
And then they'll swirl
Around our feet
Blown by the wind.
Soon it will be Bonfire Night.
We'll all get out our scarves
And winter will begin.
Summer comes with hope
That rarely is fulfilled,
But Autumn is more constant;
We know what to expect.
If seasons stood for Parliament
It's Autumn we'd elect.

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

 

September 2011

Brooks and rivers
are overflowing
from hurricane Lee.
Some roads are blocked.
"You can not get there."
To much of angry
and powerful water.

Yellow golden rods
are blooming
along the highway.

It's warm and humid,
but some nights
are in low fifties.

First maple tree leaf
turned yellow.

Marie Neumann
POW!

 

A Time To Love

A time to love; when bluebells bow their heads in prayer in the
solemnity of the woodland and crumpled tissues of the white flowering
azalea sits softly on the tree – when primroses dot the hedgerows and
the cherry blossom falls, and the cuckoo echoes the swallows return.

For is not spring a time to love?

A time to love; when poppies grace the amber crop as red sentinels of
quietude and the English Tea rose unfurls her layered skirt – when
jasmine releases scent in the evening air and cowslips charm the cooling water’s edge, and butterflies dance to the skylarks song.

For is not summer a time to love?

A time to love; when blackberries sit plump amongst their crown of thorns and rosy apples hang sweetly within the orchards swelling trees – when sycamore seeds twirl to the leaf littered floor and the hawthorn
is dotted bright with red, and squirrels scurry to the geese formation

For is not autumn a time to love?

A time to love; when mistletoe is blessed with pearls of dew-drops for
Christmas kisses and berries cluster the holly bushes of deepest green – when snowdrops are an innocent white and beech hedges are tarnished with copper, and the redwings flock to the starlings display.

For is not winter a time to love?

For as the seasons are a continuing cycle – so a time to love; is without beginning or end.

Jan Hedger
GROW

 

Early Autumn
August 2011

It is August and the rain pours down
While flowers hang their head
The Roses and Rubekia
Survey this scene with dread,
I look upon the rooftops
The tiles glare back at me
For London is a dismal place
For anyone to see.

Yet I would not change
Or move to distant land,
This garden holds my memories
The two go hand in hand,
I watch the Rowan tree
Sway berries in the breeze
My camera steady in my hand
Another scene to freeze.

© Sally Flood
Newham Writers

 

Autumn Calling

When sticky heat seeks out every body crevis;
the noise from holidaying school kids invade your ears
It's August

When the smell of burning burgers and sausages fill the air
and lager and charcoal sales reach an all year high
It's August

Sun worshippers grab the last chance for a tan
in case Septembers Indian decides not to come
It's August

And brown wrinkles pile up like ripples in wet sand
You pray, trying to stop another year slipping away.
Too late.

It's Autumn!

Jim White

 

The Time Of Year

Autumn colours fill the trees
with tans and tawny brown,
city streets filled with leaves
as grey clouds now pour down.

Children hurry home from school
mothers from their work,
traffic thunder on the roads
commuters cannot shirk.

The days are growing shorter
dark skies overcast,
another year is put to rest
with summer in the past.

So the time is shortened
counting seasons on the hand,
shadows on the ceiling
another year is planned.

© Sally Flood
Newham Writers

 

Autumn

As I wake on yet another cold autumn day
In my comfortable warm bed I would do anything to stay
As the wind bangs and rattles against my window frame
The leaves fallen from the trees dance as if they are playing a game
I begrudgingly force myself to get up and face the day
As I step outside to a bright, crisp Autumnal day I pray the rain stays away

It is the season of change, between warm summer and winters bitter cold
The leaves are changing from lush green, to a spectrum of colours from red to gold
As everyone brings out their winter coats, storing their summer dresses away
We are presented with yet another glorious, sunny Autumnal day
The woods are a hub of activity with squirrels gathering food to store
For harder times when they know they will need more

It is a season of productivity with field mushrooms
As people clear the leaves from garden paths with brooms
As a life line for wild birds before winters harsh chill
The hedgerows offer an assortment of berries, they can have their fill
It is the season of harvest as farmers gather their crops
Before they are killed off as the temperature drops
At the end of a long day, I come in and sit by an open fire
Until once more to my bed I will retire
At the end of the day, I am glad I got up for a reason
Maybe Autumn isn’t so bad, I should make the most of this beautiful Season

Liz Jury
GROW

 

Autumn

You've now reached your autumn
But you call it middle age
You've just got your pension
Where you used to get a wage.
Your kids have flown the nest,
One has a baby of her own
And you're a little scared,
One day, they'll put you in a home.
Your hair is turning grey
Just like the leaves are turning brown;
But at least you've got your bus pass,
You've the freedom of the town.
You've got a few more twinges
Than you once had as a pup,
Yet still you don't know what you want
To be when you grow up!

Andrew Diamond
Goodmayes Writers

 

Autumn
 
Autumn hails the end of the year
Wonderful colours bringing great cheer
Wher'ere you look you will espy
Golden glints against azure sky.
 
Autumn beginning of the end of the year
Look forward to feasts getting near
Fireworks, turkeys, plum puddings, apple pies
A banquet for a King before your eyes.
 
Jackie Primett
Stevenage Survivors

 

The Leaves Of Autumn

The morning Sun is rising now
Another day to start
Yet another Summer is leaving soon
And those halcyon days will depart
So too the fragrance of Flowers in bloom
And trees and shrubs an abundance of Green
Giving way to the changing Seasons
And a welcome to the Autumn scene
Leaves are now beginning to fall
Blossoms have bloomed now fade and die
The Sun is seen less frequently now
Often shrouded by clouds in the sky
Then as you walk along in the countryside
The trees are changing from green to Gold
Or varying shades of Russet, Tan or Red
A wondrous sight to behold
With a cooling breeze to aid their fall
Myriads of leaves form a carpet on the ground
Natures cloak of many variegated colours
At the foot of the trees will be found
Now is the task of the gardener
Which Flowers and plants shall he save
For some seem to cope with the Winter quite well
Mother Nature’s taught them how to behave
But for others they have to be raised and stored
To be planted again next Spring
Protected from ravages of wet and cold
So that in Summer their praises we’ll sing
It’s time to prune shrubs and trees now
Trim the lawn and cut back the hedges too
And use the Secateurs on the Roses
To encourage new growth to show through
It’s also time to dig over the flower beds
Let them lie in the Winter fallow
Covered by a layer of shredded bark
After planting some Tulips and Daffodils shallow
Remove all the plants from the Greenhouse
After turning the soil just once more
Perhaps treat the inside with Jeyes fluid
To rid of garden pests for sure
Then it’s away to the shed
For the Mower Fork and Spade
The Shears Hoe and the Tine rake too
Then retire indoors until next Spring
When there’ll be plenty of chores once again to do

Dennis Shrubshall 30th October 2010

 

Doin' The Hustle!

Have you walked the giggly path?
That slithers and winds its way
Through the trees
With a hustle and a bustle
In the autumn rustle
Crinkling and crunching
Beneath your feet
Have you walked the giggly path?

Jan Hedger
GROW

 

An Autumn Day

The sun winks cheekily through the trees
A teasing wind tickles the branches
And the leaves shake with laughter
Till they fall to the woodland stage
Where they dance with excitement
At their freedom, on this autumn day

Jan Hedger
GROW