Fall · My Poems ~ Others poems

A Happy Time For Cows

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The Cow in Apple Time


Something inspires the only cow of late
To make no more of a wall than an open gate,
And think no more of wall-builders than fools.
Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools

A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit,
She scorns a pasture withering to the root.
She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten.
The windfalls spiked with stubble  and worm-eaten.

She leaves them bitten when she has to fly.
She bellows on a knoll against the sky.
Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry
Robert Frost
Fall · My Poems ~ Others poems

Kids Write Poems About Fall

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Fall

Fall this year will see me tall
I grew big over the summer
It’s the the best one of them all
The leaves are red and gold
This winter I will be olderby Jimmy age 6

Mom Photographer Takes Fairy Tale-Like Photos Of Her Children Enjoying Autumn

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Fiery, orange
leaves cover
the rich,
grass. A
monarch butterfly
flutters through
the morning air.

Emily C, age: 12, Year: 8, Selwyn House School, ChristchurchPoem:https://nzpoetrybox.wordpress.com/tag/poems-by-children/

http://photographycastiel.blogspot.com/2012/11/michelle-pumpkin-patch-family-portraits.html

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Image:http://tinyxdreamer.tumblr.com/image/31739072247

autumn-children-photography-jessica-drossin-8

Falling Leaves

LEAVES, RED, ORANGE, AND FALLING
DYING, CHANGING, YELLOW, BROWN, AND GOLDEN
COLORS, BRIGHT, GLOWING, LIVELY
MAKE AN AUTUMN SHADOW FLOWING
COLORS BEYOND BELIEF
By Anita
Age 10

Poem: https://www.loriswebs.com/youngpoets/anita.htmlImage: https://www.demilked.com/mom-photographer-takes-fairy-tale-like-photos-of-her-children-enjoying-autumn/

Fall · My Poems ~ Others poems

To Autumn

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To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.

*

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,

Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook

Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep

Steady thy laden head across a brook;

Or by a cider-press, with patient look,

Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

*

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–

While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,

And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;

Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn

Among the river sallows, borne aloft

Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;

And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;

Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft

The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,

And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats, 1795 – 1821

John Keats
Born in 1795, John Keats was an English Romantic poet and author of three poems considered to be among the finest in the English language.
autumn · Fall · Just Nice · My Poems ~ Others poems

Sweet Poems About Fall

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 grey smoke towers.
Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Autumn, Queen of Year

When the pumpkins are so yellow
And the vines with grapes abound,
When the melons are so mellow
And the nuts fall to the ground;
When persimmons lose their bitters,
And the apples are so red;
When we love to eat corn fritters
Since the roasting ears have fled;
When vacation days are over
And the children go to school,
They no longer play in clover,
by Winifred Sackville Stoner, Jr.