Raking piles of leaves
Trees now empty of color—
Autumn’s leftovers
Morning’s icy breath
Winter playing hide ‘n seek—
Goodbye autumn friend
Lonely tree branches
Always full of memories—
Final leaf falling
Backroad’s autumn drive
Invigorating colors—
Endless leaves’ parade
Farmer’s pumpkin patch
Invitation to pick some—
Harvest of orange
Quilted with color
Warmest blanket nearly done—
Each cascading leaf
Glorious morning’s start
Grasping Creator’s hand
Warmed by faithful, rising sun
Waking His precious land
Nature’s intimate breath
Towering forest sings
Harmony’s rhythm soaring
Flying on eagle’s wings
Portrait’s autumn colors
Bordering every street
Imagination sails free
Painting each scene, repeat
Gentle spirit gathers
Energizing each thought
Another page waits to breathe
Tying landscape’s love knot
Trusted clock standing still
Adjusting every view
Tomorrow postponed for now
Tasting fall’s freshest brew
Summer forgotten
Autumn’s colorful menu—
Dining out . . . just fine
Precious earth cooling
Harvest finally gathered—
November waiting
Fall’s eternal breath
Illustrating every page—
Nature’s brightest flame
Stanley Horowitz (American poet)
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all.
Henry Beston (American writer and naturalist)
The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.
Nature’s plot thickens
September’s story finished—
Revised with color
Days growing shorter
September’s warmth slowly cools—
Nights sleeping longer
Forgetting summer
September’s move to autumn—
Leaves express color
From the words of American poet, Helen Hunt Jackson: “By all these lovely tokens, September days here with summer’s best of weather and autumn’s best of cheer.”
Albert Camus (1913-1960) was a French philosopher, author, and journalist. In 1957, at the age of 44, he received the Nobel Prize in Literature.
Autumn is a spring when every leaf is a flower.
Yoko Ono (born 1933) is an Japanese-born artist, singer, songwriter, and filmmaker.
Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.
Summer’s chapter ends
Autumn’s colors being groomed—
Landscape awakens
Summer’s gate closes
Autumn’s eager to open—
Cascading colors
Summer’s warmth fading
Sunlight’s arc sliding lower—
Autumn here at last
From the words of American farmer, artist, and writer, Rowland E. Robinson: “September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours, but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn air.”
Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul.
Peggy Toney Horton is an American writer, who lives in West Virginia.
All the months are crude experiments out of which the perfect September is made.
Virginia Woolf (1882-1941) was an English writer.
August’s final countdown
School campuses alive
Summer’s vanishing breath
Autumn’s changes soon arrive
Dog days’ final heatwave
Students receiving books
Life’s transitioning steps
Autumn paints nature’s crisp look
Calendar page now turns
Summer’s final footsteps
Cooler weather ahead
Autumn’s leaf-colored doorsteps
Landscape’s pace quiets down
While football fans cheer on
Rustling of drying leaves
Autumn sketches, far from gone
Timeless journey transcends
Harvest complete, fields bare
Classrooms find their rhythm
Autumn’s presence everywhere
Big Sky Buckeye 