THEME POETRY

Each issue has a new theme - take a look at previous issues below and click to read them all!

NOVEMBER 2020 = AUTUMN

Autumn

Neil Saltmarsh

England

 

I love to walk in the wild forest 

In Autumn, when the ground is blessed 

With a crackling carpet, of dry red leaves,

Which scurry about, as the brisk wind weaves

In and out, between the trees 

Leaving piles here and there, as deep as my knees! 


The naked bushes have less to hide 

So the fox, the badger, and deer are spied

As they move around, trying not to be seen, 

Like they could last month,

when the leaves were green. 

They can hear me coming, by the rustle and crack, 

But they're not concerned, as I stay on the track. 


Alas, the birdsong now has died.

Nor can I see one, though I've tried. 

They must have moved to a warmer place,

Where food is put out, in garden space. 

So, now to see them, I must go home 

And find them sitting atop my gnomes! 


Leaving the forest, I retrace my tracks. 

Now lifting my collar, the wind at my back. 

And, over my shoulder, uplifted, I see

Those great, tall trees are waving at me. 

As if my leaving might cause them pain!

Farewell, my friends. I'll come again

Autumn

Darshana Thapa

India

Instagram.com/creatandwrite

 

Here comes a season colourful with gay,

Paddy fields are so rich with golden hay,

Season of harvesting the paddy I say,

Dancing and singing separating food grains from hay.

 

Trees are bare since leaves are scattered everywhere,

Golden, brown, green and yellow,

With ripened fruit so delicious everywhere,

I imagine if I were a monkey, I would climb up the tree,

Swinging from branch to branch I would feel free,

Eating apples, bananas, guavas jumping from tree to tree.


Oh! Just feel the breeze, flying away leaves,

falling and kissing the ground without any sound,

it is just a wonderful season with fresh air all around,

Snow capped peak visible feeling profound.


Touch  and stamp the leaves feel like eating chips,

So crunchy and crispy feel like dancing all around,

Stamping the leaves one, two,  three, four,

oh, it is difficult to score,

let me go!


I imagine the maple leaves falling all around,

with birds chirping , singing and flying,

with blankets of clouds hiding the blue sky high above,

creating romantic mood for lovebirds  sitting around.

 

Hidden

Kassie Runyan

United States

KassieJRunyan.com

 

Autumn leaves

over a new house

covering it in gold

like a linen

over a plastic table

to hide the grey.

It provides character

to a characterless mold.

Life to a box

that was placed

in between other boxes

where people forget

the beige world

that resides beneath

the crumpling

crinkling

crumbling

sea of bold

orange and gold.

Autumn

Mel Haagman

England

Facebook.com/GirlOnTheEdge90

Instagram.com/GirlOnTheEdge90

Twitter.com/GirlOnTheEdge1

 

The crisp autumnal air

That I so love to inhale,

And the crunch of flattened leaves

Left behind me as trail.

The temperature, refreshing,

As it hits my pale skin,

And I feel a sense of happiness

From somewhere deep within.

Autumn is my favourite season,

The clothes are just the best,

The boots and the jackets,

But no need to wear a vest.

Halloween and fireworks,

Toffee apples on a stick,

The days are dark so early,

And they fly by like in a tick.

Sitting by a fire, in a warm, toasty pub,

Making soups and winter stews,

Yes, I love the summer sun,

But, It’s Autumn I would choose.

The Universe

Genevieve Lyons

United States

 

The universe

It’s expanding, they say

Or is it contracting?

They say It is indifferent; it asks for nothing

I know that’s not true

It asks—no, demands, our attention

Why else would I have these senses?

The five I learned about in school

And all the others:

Intuition, anxiety, joy

Injustice and justice and empathy

Like waves that roll and lap

Like electric prickles that poke and zap

Like fingers slammed in a door

So many sensations I did not try to feel

The universe insisted

The universe (that) made me

From a star-explosion/collision

It is only natural, would result in

Sparkles of light and also white-hot rage.

The Secret Dream

Asoke Kumar Mitra

India

The moon swallowed the dark

Broken dreams silently hanging 

Through the window pane,

A rusted frame of night

Stars twinkle gently

Owls moaning


Dreams are fragile glass

Untold story of joy and pain

Come alive with words you have not spoken

This night beside the window

Eyes speak a thousand words

In silence


What are the colors of rain

Falling like lost dreams…

Forgive, but never to trust again.

The Garden & The Tree

Tate Gentry

United States

Instagram.com/typical_tate

Typicaltate.wordpress.com

 

In my yard is a garden,

Near the shade of a tree,

Every Autumn the story is the same.

 

It casts its refuse haphazardly down,

Uncaring of the plants I have so delicately tended.

Seeing this unfold I decide today will be the day.

 

I prepare my axe,

A cold, sharp blade,

It fills my hands with terrible purpose.

 

I am resigned to the work,

Laying axe to root,

Doom, it seemed, was certain.

 

Raising my blade,

I lift my eyes,

Beholding a strange, and familiar glory.

 

Through the near barren branches,

Golden rays of light came cascading down,

Illuminating me in all my folly.

 

I drop the axe,

Letting it fall to the earth,

How could I commit so great a sin?

 

If I had felled that tree,

A precious thing would be lost,

And I could not see the light that way again.

Rustic Autumn

Bilkis Moola

South Africa

 

We’re getting into Zooming,
Oh, Autumn!  Rustle your hues:
Of ochre, gold and melancholic adieus -
To summer in his blazing retreat,
Perforate your fires as flaming feats!

Leaves on trees tingle at your tinge -
Swathes of red and caresses of orange.
What whispers in your breeze beseech -
The passing of seasons and farewell entreat?

Harvest the fruits of a summer gone -
Before the approach of winter in her chilly dawn.
Rueful prints of abundant shrubs
Flush as fading colours in a rustic dusk.

Earthy tones as passionate plumes -
Fall in swirling cascades of leafy volumes.
To carpet a ground in a brittle spread
Crushed underfoot in a restless bed.

Oh, Autumn!  Rustle your hues:
Season of mixed temperament and mingling costumes.
Kindle flourescence as radiations of light
In flourishing splendour of warmth and delight!

Memories of Autumn

Asoke Kumar Mitra

India

 

Fragrant days of autumn

Chariot of clouds at dusk

Here the clay goddess come

Carries all my songs


The golden touch of her feet

Makes my joy to shine infinite

Birds sing in the morning

And the whispers of the wind

Flutes sound and the laughter


After four days—


Memories swirling into nowhere

Plunged into a sea of silence…

Ode to a Floral Dream

Aminath Neena

Maldives

 

Oh Fuchsia!

Thou who bring the summer’s song

to autumn’s crispy ears

Neither the pink gloss of camellia

Nor the satin gown of dahlia

Doeth pave justice

To thy magnum opus charisma


Oh Fuchsia

Thou who bring the summer’s song

to autumn’s crispy ears

Gentle friend of midsummer begonia

Companion of summer blue lobelia

Thy demure belittles the aura

And dazzle of all seasonal forsythia


Oh Fuchsia

Thou who bring the summer’s song

to autumn’s crispy ears

Curled velvet of Petunia

violet lips of glazed ambrosia

Thy bloom lone canst suffice

To the homosapien heart's dystopia


Oh Fuchsia

Thou who bring the summer’s song

to autumn’s crispy ears

Pentamerous petals of peachy freesia

Clutching onto shades of sun kissed zinnia

Thy sultry pout hath shamed

many a lovers' wanton euphoria


Oh Fuchsia!

Thou who bring the summer’s song

to autumn’s crispy ears

My earthly floral Isabella

Wearing thy autumny tinted penumbra

Dreamt have I so for mine espousal chemise

Thy beauty smiling in a roseate veiled tiara


Fuchsia! Oh Fuchsia!

I beg thee; let not this be

one ficklest dream of utopia

these things sign of autumn

Linda Crate

United States

Facebook.com/Linda-M-Crate-129813357119547/

Twitter.com/thysilverdoe

Instagram.com/authorlindamcrate/

 

once my hair

was crimson as an autumn leaf,

and the sun shown gold

upon my flesh;

and those are the moments

i live for

 

those little snapshots

you cannot forget—

 

times spent with family and friends

even moments spent in solitude

that are so lovely you cannot forget

 

in autumn i find the colors

of my hair change like the hues of

autumn leaves,

 

and so i feel connected to this season;

 

pumpkin spice & apple cider

are both welcome at my house—

 

halloween costumes,

witchy movies and long thick skirts;

cute boots and the crisp crunch

of autumn leaves in my step

 

these are things that feel and smell and sing

of autumn.

Autumn Leaves: Girl

Genevieve Ray

England

Facebook.com/GenevieveRayPoet

Poetizer.com/GenevieveRay

 

A child stands alone

in a field that used to be green.

She's been here before

in the elegance of summer,

in the sunlight of her dreams. 


Trees whisper around her,

telling the sighing stories

of what winter will become

if you really listen to the breeze,

the dance and the hum.


Blinded by autumn leaves,

the song between the trees,

the little girl dances,

whirling carelessly, mini-tornado,

in childlike ecstasy. 


She dreams of being older,

taking her own little ones

to find the mysteries

of an ever autumnal sun.

She will teach the Latin words

for the season that she loves.

From all Hallow's eve

to the ending fires of harvest stars.

What We So Miss

Michaela Jane Fuller

United States

 

Brown leaves appear upon the trees, 

The bees disappear from sight, 

People wrap themselves in warmer clothes,

And the days, they lose their light. 


Pubs begin to light their fires,

People flock to nearby seats, 

And on every chalk pub menu,

Is a selection of warming, roasted meats. 


Apples fall from orchard trees, 

Blackberries are in full force, 

And people gorge on apple pies, 

With not a glimmer of remorse. 


For now’s the time to stay nice and warm, 

To keep the energy levels high, 

The animals go into hibernation, 

Yet we don’t and I ponder why.


It’s the time to turn the heating on,

And get the old jumpers out, 

And hope for sparklers and fireworks, 

With “ooo” and “ahh” type shouts. 


And even though this year may differ, 

From the season we love and know, 

There’s no reason to feel too blue, 

On account of the firework no-show. 


Halloween may be cancelled,

But that’s not a reason to be sad, 

You can still dress up as a vampire,

Who cares if people think you’re mad?


Make the most of this season, 

Do what you can to make it fun, 

Because things will go back to normal, 

Next year when humanity has won. 


So practice your firework “ooos” and “ahhs,”

Practice your vampire hiss,

As next year it will be back on plan, 

And we will have what we so missed. 

A Friend of Autumn

Loti Uwatabaye

Rwanda

Facebook.com/uwloti

 

I remember and portray;

Patience is the autumn's nature.

When the arrogant sun

burns the chlorophyll,

I become desperate.

But just like the ferns,

I stand firm.

The big autumn tree says,

'I balance freely in nature.'

Without leaves,

living for love,

waving in every side

for the autumn poet

to compose a rhyme

under its open shelter.

I remember and portray;

How they kissed in the season.

Leaning to the woods,

feeling the moods.

As they climb the branches,

singing songs like birds

of the same feather,

they chase away my solitude.

No matter when leaves shade off,

poets are friends who never leave.

I absolutely love it

when the leaves fall.

Because I can compose

each line spontaneously.

After all, every shade

is poetically nurtured,

inspired by the autumn.

MEET THE TEAM

Mel

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Mel is a special needs teacher from the UK. She lives by the sea and loves nothing more than walking along the beach with a coffee from her favourite cafe. She has always loved reading and writing poetry. 

Kassie

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Kassie is a poet and fiction author from NYC. She spends her days working in marketing and her nights writing and designing... when she isn't traveling and trying to find the next best brewery.

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