In England it’s called Autumn, and never referred to as Fall
Today, I watched as leaves blew sideways and upwards, none went downwards at all
The rain it comes in cold hard bullets, and makes puddles to chill our feet
And they tell us now that this evening, we will be able to enjoy some sleet
Padre
Ice on the windscreen
Leaves under my feet
Chill in the air
The sun suffering defeat
I turn on the defrosters
I wait for the warm
And then I drive out
To start my morn
Padre
It is that time of year again
When clocks swing back from eleven to ten
When days get darker in mid-afternoon
Owing to a government mandate changing noon
So British Summer has come to an end
Until March – when we bend time again
Padre
precurser pale pink
winter tortured bough adorned
seasons’ change erupts
harbinger of new promise
of the coming of the spring
Padre
https://wordcraftpoetry.com/2021/10/19/tankatuesday-weekly-poetry-challenge-no-248-photoprompt/
Autumn now has fully come
Rainy skies instead of sun
Mushrooms arising – their presence plain
As the green from leaves does drain
Mornings kissed with fog and chill
With afternoons remaining pleasant still
Padre
As bumbles buzz along their daily path
And the blooms of summer begin to fade
Fruit ripens turning gold or red
And thoughts of school impending fills our head
A perfect season comes to close
We await the days shortening – growing cold
We watch a butterflies their final rounds make
And in the evening tales of summer adventures are told
As the bumbles buzz – heading for home
Padre
Spring advancing to summer
Blooms abound with colourful cheer
Gardens fill with delight
At the crescendo of the year
While winter is nice with its white pristine snow
This season is better with its spectacular floral show
Padre
I emerge from the chilly soil
And turn my face up to the sun
I unflod my petals bright
A sign that spring has come
And as the weather warms
All the world will see
That warmth, colour, and sweet scents
Will have won a victory
Padre
Bright upland meadow
Blooming forth with hints of spring
Winter’s snows now passed
Padre
A raven caws from the barren branch
As cold grey clouds shadow the frozen mud
No seedlings yet emerge from this snow day‘s
Bleak landscape, as we huddle by the campfire
As bright as safety orange in the dull winter world
Padre
snow day, safety orange, campfire, seedling, raven, mud, and shadow.
Padre's Ramblings 