Leaves turn brown
‘Ere they fall
To waiting ground.
I heard
A bird’s
Alarm call.
Autumn will become
Winter. The sun
Will burn out.
Some still shout
Of human progress
While leaves fall.
Progress
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Tag Archives: the seasons
A New Autumn (Working Title)
Soon the autumn moon
Will come
And autumn’s milder face
Will replace
The boiling summer sun.
Yet the poet sees
Autumn’s Fallen leaves
Broiled by summer’s sun
Long ‘Ere autumn
Is due to come.
Flowers in Springtime
Flowers in springtime
Bring to mind
A former springtime.
But I find
That my November,
And oncoming December
Haunt my mind.
Winter’s Last Blast
Winter’s last blast
Sighs and dies
In a rhyme
Of passing springtime.
Autumn Thoughts
In autumn, I recollect
How I would collect
The Autumn’s fall.
From the forest’s floor.
How many more
Shall I recall?
Autumn Day
On a grey
Autumn day,
I engage
With age.
I Scent the Early Summer Air
I scent the early summer air,
And there
Find a hint of autumn leaves.
The trees
Hold what will be gold
Once autumn calls, and leaves
Fall down,
To the ground.
For within this early summer air,
I scent the autumn hiding there.
Their Time in the Sun
They have fun
In the sun.
Their perfect
Bodies reject
The fact that they
Will grow old.
Where I to be bold
And say,
“All this will pass
Away”,
Lad and lass would laugh.
Though, perhaps a thoughtful few
Would say
“That’s true.
But we must
Enjoy our day
Ere we are dust”.
And I would nod,
And go away.
A Cold Day in May
A cold day in May.
Where has the spring gone?
Yet, the flowers live on.
In Mid April
In mid April
The birds sing
And start
A rill
Of hope in my heart.
Surely this Covid thing
Will pass?
But, for now lad
And lass
Are glad
That birds still sing
In spring.
K Morris - Poet 