Acorns and leaves fall

Underneath the trees,

The forest begins her ascent to glory.

Under the stairs, a barrel of apples is ready to be

Made into applesauce, or a 

Nighttime dessert of pie.

In the fireplace a fire crackles,

Never going out.

The cold creeps

Over the 

World, but our house 

Is warm and cozy.

Nature sleeps as winter and 

The beautiful

Early snows fall,

Readying us for Christmas.

••••••••••••••••••

Did you notice it is an acrostic? I hope you like it! 

My contribution~

a moment in autumn

cold crisp air like sparkling apple cider

far-reaching crystal blue sky that never really ends

cold clear air reminding us to dream

and wave on wave of high hills

unfolding forever, beckoning us on to their infinity

rising and falling, and rising again

(and after all, that's my life -

rising and falling and rising again)

beckoning, yes, but locking in their secrets until you have to follow thier call

have to reach the next step

(maybe that's why i love autumn?

maybe it's just that feeling of having to continue

and wanting to continue)

cold crisp wind that blows you onward

far-reaching layers of orchards filled with jewel-like apples (filled with hope, too)

cold clear heights where it feels like you never knew what it was to live before

life is throwing out your arms and spinning around

the wind blowing your hair across your face

your laugher, that you didn't mean to laugh

(and after all, that's what's important -

realizing that you can laugh when you think you can't

realizing that your worries weren't important after all

realizing that your fears are nonexistent...

that it's wonderful to be up here,

with the long rambling grassy paths that lead you on forever,

and the hills enticing you with promises of the future

and the apples warm and sweet on your tongue...)

maybe what's coming beyond those hills is winter

but right now it's autumn, and i'm alive, and both of them (autumn & life)

are golden

Can I join?

Awesome! Here's my poem. (You may have seen it on a different thread too) 

AUTUMN

I swing gently in the hammock.

Above me, blue sky winks through the nearly bare branches.

Below me, crisp leaves scatter with every puff.

The cool breeze plays with the tips of my hair,

and the warm sun smiles down in my face.

Trees whisper, letting leaves float to the earth. 

Autumn is welcoming me. 

Autumn

Leaves swirling softly

drifting

down

down

down

falling to the ground                           

WHOOSH!                               

a gust of wind makes the leaves leap

into the sky again

for one last flight before                

the snow                                

covers them in a bleak tomb     

forever                                

I can’t hold on anymore—

Will I lose

It all?

How much can I take?

How soon ‘till I 

break?

I can’t do this

I can’t keep this up

I feel like Atlas

but

  I’m not strong enough

to hold up the sky

So

Many

Expectations

Too

Many 

I can barely keep up

I can barely stand

My grip

Loosens

My fingers slip-

and

   I

F

  a

      l
          l

----------------------------------

(So  I wrote this then realized everyone else wrote about the season... did you mean the season, or either definition? Also hopefully the format will come through. And also somewhat got some parts of lines/inspirtation from my favorite song, Take The Weight)

the fog creeps under my skin and

the trees stretch bare sticks into the sky and 

I feel that ever recurring burn of anger 

crawl up the back of my throat because 

another summer has slipped through my fingers and

everything is

still

the same. 

(fall is clinging to the deck of your ship, 

peering over the edge, 

and realizing you were on dirt all this time--

you have not moved, 

nothing has changed

but the leaves in your backyard) 

an autumn haze of rain streaks my mascara as

I paint my knees in mud on the soccer field and 

watch the pretty girl with chocolate curls bolt down the field and

I,

of course,

keep my mouth shut just like I did last year

(and the year before). 

the ball smacks my shins and 

my eyes tear away from her back and 

the november breeze turns my cheeks pink as

I watch fall begin to drift away

just as summer did. 

When are you judging?