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Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Talia (216.117.98.---)
Date: September 15, 2003 04:49PM

Gathering Leaves
by Robert Frost

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.

I make a great noise
of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.

But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.

I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?

Next to nothing for weight;
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.

Next to nothing for use,
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

[] />

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: -Les- (
Date: September 15, 2003 05:51PM

Here's one by our own Forum member, J. H. Summers

My Autumn

Spring and summer are gone, and
I am in the autumn of my years,
every pain and ache tells me so.
All too soon winter will come
and with it the big sleep.

Thinking back, I am mildly surprised
that I have lasted this long.
Illness, accidents, twisted cars
and one-hundred tons of falling steel;
any could have been my end.

But still I remain, still I live.
So I will bear the pain
because it tells me that I am alive.

After all, what is winter
but a short respite,
a suspension of breath.
The next spring that comes
will usher in eternity.

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: -Les- (
Date: September 15, 2003 06:01PM

Talia, believe it or not, this question has been asked before. Go here to see other selections:

[] />

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Talia (216.117.99.---)
Date: September 15, 2003 06:23PM

Regarding JH's poem, he says that he is in the autumn of his life. He portrays that as a negative season. I have always that of it as the best season of life. Spring is from birth until you have reached that adult level in life in which you are "on your own", growing children, working, etc. Then when you reach autumn, your hard work has paid off and your reap a harvest. Just my imagination.

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: RJAllen (193.114.111.---)
Date: September 16, 2003 11:32AM

Binyon: The burning of the leaves
Tennyson; Tithonus
Keats's Autumn an ode

A spring to mind at once

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Marian-NYC (
Date: September 16, 2003 02:21PM

"spring to mind"?

"fall to perusal"?

Somewhere on this forum I once posted Jonathan Coffin's poem (actual written by Tennessee Williams) from NIGHT OF THE IGUANA -- that's very autumnal.

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Hugh Clary (
Date: September 16, 2003 05:28PM

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Hugh Clary (
Date: September 16, 2003 05:29PM

What's up with the links, anyway?

How calmly does the olive branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch;
Without a cry, without a prayer,
With no betrayal of despair.

Sometime while night obscures the tree,
The zenith of its life will be
Gone past forever, and from thence,
A second history will commence:

A chronicle no longer gold,
A bargaining with mist and mould,
And finally, the broken stem,
The plummeting to earth, and then

An intercourse not well designed
For beings of a golden kind
Whose nature green must arch above
The earth's obscene, corrupting love;

And still the ripe fruit and the branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch;
Without a cry, without a prayer,
With no betrayal of despair.

O Courage, could you not as well
Select a second place to dwell,
Not only in that golden tree,
But in the frightened heart of me?

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Hugh Clary (
Date: September 17, 2003 03:31PM

I'm still curious why some links work and some don't, if the powers-that-be are reading the posts. I saw an interesting way of getting extra spaces or indents to work in this software, so I am gonna try an experiment with it below. Forgive the drivel if it turns out poorly.

The English say mornings are rough,
So, for breakfast, eat oodles of stuff,

Like bangers and beans
And mushrooms and greens;

But the French say one egg is un oeuf.

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Tigermonkey (
Date: September 17, 2003 04:14PM

One of my all-time faves:


I love to see, when leaves depart
The clear anatomy arrive.
Winter, that paragon of Art,
Which kills all form of life and feeling,
Save what is pure and will survive.

Already now the clanging chains
Of geese are harnessed to the moon,
Stripped are the great sunclouding planes
And the dark pines, their own revealing,
Let in the needles of the noon.

Strained by the gale the olives whiten
Like hoary wrestlers bent with toil,
And, with the vines, their branches lighten
To brim our vats where summer lingers
In the red froth and sun-gold oil.

Soon on our hearth's reviving pyre
Their rotted stems will crumble up,
And, like a ruby, panting fire,
The grape will redden on your fingers
Through the lit crystal of the cup.

Roy Campbell

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Talia (216.117.98.---)
Date: September 18, 2003 01:14PM

Not autumnal, but woodsy.

Smokey the Bear heads
into the autumn woods
with a red can of gasoline
and a box of wooden matches.

His ranger's hat is cocked
at a disturbing angle.

His brown fur gleams
under the high sun
as his paws, the size
of catcher's mitts,
crackle into the distance.

He is sick of dispensing
warnings to the careless,
the half-wit camper,
the dumbbell hiker.

He is going to show them
how a professional does it.

--Billy Collins

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Marian-NYC (
Date: September 18, 2003 06:00PM

Enoch Arden &c.
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
The vapors weep their burthen to the ground,
Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.
Me only cruel immortality
Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.

Alas! for this gray shadow, once a man--
So glorious in his beauty and thy choice,
Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem'd
To his great heart none other than a God!
I ask'd thee, Give me immortality.'<br /> Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile,<br /> Like wealthy men who care not how they give.<br /> But thy strong Hours indignant work'd their wills,<br /> And beat me down and marr'd and wasted me,<br /> And tho' they could not end me, left me maim'd<br /> To dwell in presence of immortal youth,<br /> Immortal age beside immortal youth,<br /> And all I was, in ashes. Can thy love,<br /> Thy beauty, make amends, tho' even now,<br /> Close over us, the silver star, thy guide,<br /> Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill with tears<br /> To hear me? Let me go: take back thy gift:<br /> Why should a man desire in any way<br /> To vary from the kindly race of men,<br /> Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance<br /> Where all should pause, as is most meet for all?<br /> <br /> A soft air fans the cloud apart; there comes<br /> A glimpse of that dark world where I was born.<br /> Once more the old mysterious glimmer steals<br /> From thy pure brows, and from thy shoulders pure,<br /> And bosom beating with a heart renew'd.<br /> Thy cheek begins to redden thro' the gloom,<br /> Thy sweet eyes brighten slowly close to mine,<br /> Ere yet they blind the stars, and the wild team<br /> Which love thee, yearning for thy yoke, arise,<br /> And shake the darkness from their loosen'd manes,<br /> And beat the twilight into flakes of fire.<br /> <br /> Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful<br /> In silence, then before thine answer given<br /> Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek.<br /> <br /> Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears,<br /> And make me tremble lest a saying learnt,<br /> In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true?<br /> The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.'

Ay me! ay me! with what another heart
In days far-off, and with what other eyes
I used to watch--if I be he that watch'd--
The lucid outline forming round thee; saw
The dim curls kindle into sunny rings;
Changed with thy mystic change, and felt my blood
Glow with the glow that slowly crimson'd all
Thy presence and thy portals, while I lay,
Mouth, forehead, eyelids, growing dewy-warm
With kisses balmier than half-opening buds
Of April, and could hear the lips that kiss'd
Whispering I knew not what of wild and sweet,
Like that strange song I heard Apollo sing,
While Ilion like a mist rose into towers.

Yet hold me not for ever in thine East:
How can my nature longer mix with thine?
Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold
Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet
Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when the steam
Floats up from those dim fields about the homes
Of happy men that have the power to die,
And grassy barrows of the happier dead.
Release me, and restore me to the ground;
Thou seest all things, thou wilt see my grave:
Thou wilt renew thy beauty morn by morn;
I earth in earth forget these empty courts,
And thee returning on thy silver wheels.

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Pam Adams (
Date: September 18, 2003 09:15PM

Sung by Frank Sinatra

Autumn in New York
Why does it seem so exciting (inviting)
Autumn in New York
It spells the thrill of first-knighting
Shimmering clouds - glimmering crowds (glittering crowds and shimmering clouds)
In canyons of steel
They're making me feel - I'm home

It's autumn in New York
That brings a (the) promise of new love
Autumn in New York
Is often mingled with pain

Dreamers with empty hands
(They) All sigh for exotic lands

(But) It's autumn in New York
It's good to live it again

This autumn in New York
Transforms the slums into Mayfair
Autumn in New York
You'll need no castles in Spain

Lovers that bless the dark
On benches in Central Park

(But) It's autumn in New York
It's good to live it again

(- in New York)


Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: glenda (
Date: September 18, 2003 10:48PM

Well, if we're going to sing, let's sing this too.

Autumn Leaves

(French lyrics by Jacques Prévert,
English lyrics by Johnny Mercer,
Music by Joseph Kosma)

The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sun-burned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Pam Adams (---)
Date: September 19, 2003 04:11PM

And of course, there's the O. Henry story, The Last Leaf. [] />

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Marian-NYC (
Date: September 22, 2003 01:26PM

Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850–1894).
A Child’s Garden of Verses and Underwoods. 1913.

Autumn Fires

IN the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!

Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The gray smoke towers.

Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!

Re: Autumnal Poems
Posted by: Talia (216.117.98.---)
Date: September 24, 2003 04:24PM

Pumpkin poem
One day I found two pumpkin seeds.
I planted one and pulled the weeds.
It sprouted roots and a big, long vine.
A pumpkin grew; I called it mine.
The pumpkin was quite round and fat.
(I really am quite proud of that.)
But there is something I'll admit
That has me worried just a bit.
I ate the other seed, you see.
Now will it grow inside of me?
(I'm so relieved since I have found
That pumpkins only grow in the ground!)

Pumpkin song (tune: I'm a little teapot)
I'm a little pumpkin
Orange and round.
Here is my stem,
There is the ground.
When I get all cut up,
Don't you shout!
Just open me up
And scoop me out!

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