Autumn is my favorite season because it has a sense of nostalgia to it. The trees are red and orange or yellow, the air feels pure inside your lungs, fashion trends are usually pretty wearable and nice and the weather is not too hot nor too cold :)
ah finally, you’re here
i’ve been looking for you.
i miss you. a lot.
i miss drinking hot pumpkin spice latte while enjoying you and your warm smile, even though it’s kinda cold here.
you’re not that hot and make me afraid even just to approach you, and also you’re not as cold as winter, i know that’s to make it easier for me to hug you.
come here, dear. closer.
you need to know how much i’m missing you.
Each tree had its own shade of autumn hanging from its limbs.
Sometimes all those trees seemed to blend together until you take the time to look, really look, and notice all the different shades that green, red, orange, yellow can be.
the leaves are radiant
for a season
for a spell
like me
then as quickly as they
became beautiful, they die
leaving a black and white
world behind
at autumns end
Autumn is such a lovely time of year – the air is crisp and cool, the leaves are turning such lovely bright colors, and time seems to be slowing down, getting ready for a winter nap.
I’m sick of this silence, this autumn, this unwritten nostalgia for all of the summers gone and all the snows to come. I’m sick of it. The leaves don’t fall, they don’t change at all. They’re like people. They don’t know any better. Bob’s right. You don’t need a weatherman to tell you which way the wind blows.
Because it doesn’t.
The leaves know that. And so do you.
It’s too quiet for all of that.
the air grows cool
the leaves begin to change
frost begins to form
fog in the early mornings
couples wrapped together in long scarves
stealing hugs inside the other’s warm jacket
sweet pumpkin pie
families gathering together
all leading to a cold, isolated dead state
the last lingering vestiges of summer, the colurs turning, strangely enough, from cool to hot reds and yellows. Long, cool evenings and snuggling under the duvet. Time for curries and dvd’s and watching the whales float past the coastline.
the leaves are brown they fall to the ground, orange yellow gold and warm like solid honey falling from the sky the beauty of the twirling and spinning like slow mo dancers of the season
This is not much of anything. Autumn is a vague kind of thing, a not important time, a place where no one goes. The ideas of summer, spring, winter, fall- we make them so much more than they are.
Autumn came quickly and paved the streets in leaves, coloured the lands with bursts of reds and yellows and golds against the great blue sky, set the boughs of trees ablaze with colour and light and life. It is a beautiful death, a last hurrah and celebration of life before the recession against the cold and bitterness of winter, long awaiting the slow rebirth of the sleepy snow-swathed spring.
And then Autumn gives in to the cold, unforgiving Winter. She slowly peels away herself, lets the reds and golds drop into nothingness, to be swept away by unfeeling gardeners. Her thin, helpless form is now bowed down by an icy mass of white. Her creatures take shelter in her apron’s depths, in little coves and corners. She watches several shiver and take their last breaths. And in her gentle heart, that beats away through the nuts hidden by the little squirrels, she wills Spring to hurry.
Leaves of red and gold. Cold, crisp air. Hallow trees filled with gathered nuts aplenty from the greedy little squirrels of the summer. A heavy breeze slaps my hair across my face and I sigh heavily. I am alone and it is cold. The outside, the surrounding world…it’s beautiful. But somehow still so bare, both inside and out.
Leaves of red and gold. Cold, crisp air. Hallow trees filled with gathered nuts aplenty from the greedy little squirrels of the summer. A heavy breeze slaps my hair across my face and I sigh heavily. I am alone and it is cold. The outside, the surrounding world…it’s beautiful. But somehow still so bare, both inside and out.
You come all color and excitement and you give me chills. Your kisses taste like hot chocolate and fireplaces. You wrap me in scarves and blankets and wooly socks. You are lovely.
yeah, rolling backpacks and colder grounds, hoodie sweatshirts, stalling by bending down to tie my shoes, shes talking with lucas at the far end of the hall, keeping tabs and weighing my days, listening to coldplay, ohh its a big mess, walking to the meuseum with
I love autumn, the colors are like a burning fire of beauty. A mix of red, auburn, and sienna… the beautiful and familiar green leaves are set aflame into a rainbow of fall colors.
Autumn. It’s the name of the girl who I used to be friends with. It’s a strange name, autumn. Alterntative, I guess. when you think of it, no one appreciates the word anymore.
We say fall, as it we are falling into the pits of winter. Is that truly the way we see it’s beauty?
the fire in the earth reaches up through the roots of every plant and every creature and turns the bows and the limbs and the fingernails red or yellow but always to burst into oranges that freckle and spurt into the air until we breathe them, we’re breathing them all and taking in the fire from below.
It’s autumn, and I have no one to snuggle with. The winter is coming and I am not prepared. But can one really feel the temperature drop, if their heart is as cold as ice?
The red, yellow and golden leaves always made Yuri smile. The way they crunched under her step and brightened the world… she wished she cOuld brighten her world.
crisp cool breeze on my face such the opposite of your breathe on my neck. Calming and Soothing. Crunchy beneath my feet are the leaves, Bringing a smile to my face, like the smile i bring to yours.
Kit hated autumn. Hated it and loved it at the same time. Autumn meant school which meant bullies and taunts and never knowing whether he’d make it through the day without needing to change his shirt.
It also meant Cheerios. It meant soccer and practices and tiring himself out so much that he never needed to worry about being unable to sleep. It meant freedom and it meant prison.
It was early autumn as he boarded the bus that would take him to Kelpius. First September, same day as it had been for centuries. Same day he would have started at Hogwarts. Same day he would be clambering onto a train for a journey across the UK.
He wouldn’t be riding a train today. Father and Pater had met him and Papa Paton at [estate name] with Orion and Gemini in tow. They apparated to the assigned point and said their goodbyes as they waited for the [creature] bus to arrive. It seemed…less magical, somehow.
The autumn is coming to a close, though many wish for weeks more of candy apples, cider, and bonfires.
But as all things do, autumn ends. It gives way to the biting winds of winter when the sky is so blue that it hurts your eyes, or so grey with snow that it feels like dusk all day long.
The summer air is gone
with only hints of the heat
that the world used to know
floating around in the corners
of the day. The leaves mimic
the warm colors, then laugh
when they change into
a crispy brown.
I see him in the corner of my eyes,
Thinking, should I go up to him and say hi?
I can’t possibly do that. Should I?
Well, this is a new year after all.
Wait. No. Oh no. He just looked at me.
Does he know that I have a crush on him?
Is he gonna like me?
Is he even gonna care?
Is he?
You know what, this is just another autumn.
There was something gorgeous about the colours scrawled across the sky, the whipping wind that had spun up from a still late autumn.
Nathan was driving home, safe behind the wheel of his Aston when it came through, driving leaves across the sky in waves. It was… Gorgeous.
The leaves fell in patterns eerily similar to those that I saw that day I fell to my death. Swirling in circles, the only way I could ever see the wind currents that run and twist through the broken buildings that used to be a city.
The Autumn leaves crumple beneath my feet as I walk to the store. I look down to see the many bright colors…but I also see a time much simpler than now. If only I could return to those Autumn days of youth.
This word has an m followed by an n. Not a whole lot of words have that unique characteristic. It also reminds me of amber, for some reason. Autumn, august, august burns red. Emo people suck. It reminds me of picking apples at an orchard when I was a kid with my family; that place, unfortunately, no longer exists. It reminds me of those sugar candies. You know the ones I’m talking about, right? The ones shaped like leaves but are entirely too rich for any grown up persons taste, but seem to be fitted just right for a child’s palate.
Autumn is my favorite season because it has a sense of nostalgia to it. The trees are red and orange or yellow, the air feels pure inside your lungs, fashion trends are usually pretty wearable and nice and the weather is not too hot nor too cold :)
ah finally, you’re here
i’ve been looking for you.
i miss you. a lot.
i miss drinking hot pumpkin spice latte while enjoying you and your warm smile, even though it’s kinda cold here.
you’re not that hot and make me afraid even just to approach you, and also you’re not as cold as winter, i know that’s to make it easier for me to hug you.
come here, dear. closer.
you need to know how much i’m missing you.
Autumn-the falling leaves, and the comfortably warm breeze.
The golden color, the smiling people.
What’s more to love? Than a peaceful season?
Each tree had its own shade of autumn hanging from its limbs.
Sometimes all those trees seemed to blend together until you take the time to look, really look, and notice all the different shades that green, red, orange, yellow can be.
the leaves are radiant
for a season
for a spell
like me
then as quickly as they
became beautiful, they die
leaving a black and white
world behind
at autumns end
Autumn is such a lovely time of year – the air is crisp and cool, the leaves are turning such lovely bright colors, and time seems to be slowing down, getting ready for a winter nap.
I’m sick of this silence, this autumn, this unwritten nostalgia for all of the summers gone and all the snows to come. I’m sick of it. The leaves don’t fall, they don’t change at all. They’re like people. They don’t know any better. Bob’s right. You don’t need a weatherman to tell you which way the wind blows.
Because it doesn’t.
The leaves know that. And so do you.
It’s too quiet for all of that.
the air grows cool
the leaves begin to change
frost begins to form
fog in the early mornings
couples wrapped together in long scarves
stealing hugs inside the other’s warm jacket
sweet pumpkin pie
families gathering together
all leading to a cold, isolated dead state
the last lingering vestiges of summer, the colurs turning, strangely enough, from cool to hot reds and yellows. Long, cool evenings and snuggling under the duvet. Time for curries and dvd’s and watching the whales float past the coastline.
gwilla is a gorilla who likes to grill fish fingers he hates bananas in autom expesaly yellow ones, smily fase.
Autum is a season in wich there is a lot of wind and leaves all over the place…. It’s really hard to keep your back yard clean in Autum…
the leaves are brown they fall to the ground, orange yellow gold and warm like solid honey falling from the sky the beauty of the twirling and spinning like slow mo dancers of the season
This is not much of anything. Autumn is a vague kind of thing, a not important time, a place where no one goes. The ideas of summer, spring, winter, fall- we make them so much more than they are.
A time for the kings to take a bow.
A time for Nature to showcase her wealth,
when the lush fornication of summer
gives way to the sweet fruits of labor.
The trees bleed red, gold and brown
and gently, ever so gently
lay their crowns onto the ground.
All wealth and treasure gleaned from barren branches.
Autumn signifies change. The leaves fall one by one; saying that it is time to move on; to live life and go forward.
Autumn came quickly and paved the streets in leaves, coloured the lands with bursts of reds and yellows and golds against the great blue sky, set the boughs of trees ablaze with colour and light and life. It is a beautiful death, a last hurrah and celebration of life before the recession against the cold and bitterness of winter, long awaiting the slow rebirth of the sleepy snow-swathed spring.
And then Autumn gives in to the cold, unforgiving Winter. She slowly peels away herself, lets the reds and golds drop into nothingness, to be swept away by unfeeling gardeners. Her thin, helpless form is now bowed down by an icy mass of white. Her creatures take shelter in her apron’s depths, in little coves and corners. She watches several shiver and take their last breaths. And in her gentle heart, that beats away through the nuts hidden by the little squirrels, she wills Spring to hurry.
Leaves of red and gold. Cold, crisp air. Hallow trees filled with gathered nuts aplenty from the greedy little squirrels of the summer. A heavy breeze slaps my hair across my face and I sigh heavily. I am alone and it is cold. The outside, the surrounding world…it’s beautiful. But somehow still so bare, both inside and out.
Leaves of red and gold. Cold, crisp air. Hallow trees filled with gathered nuts aplenty from the greedy little squirrels of the summer. A heavy breeze slaps my hair across my face and I sigh heavily. I am alone and it is cold. The outside, the surrounding world…it’s beautiful. But somehow still so bare, both inside and out.
Autumn is a season autumn is when the leaves fall of the trees and turn different color. I am not born in autumn I was born in spring
You come all color and excitement and you give me chills. Your kisses taste like hot chocolate and fireplaces. You wrap me in scarves and blankets and wooly socks. You are lovely.
yeah, rolling backpacks and colder grounds, hoodie sweatshirts, stalling by bending down to tie my shoes, shes talking with lucas at the far end of the hall, keeping tabs and weighing my days, listening to coldplay, ohh its a big mess, walking to the meuseum with
I love autumn, the colors are like a burning fire of beauty. A mix of red, auburn, and sienna… the beautiful and familiar green leaves are set aflame into a rainbow of fall colors.
falling leaves,cool breezes, serenity,
its the time when the leaves fall and turn colors IT CAN BE USED AS A NAME TO
Autumn. It’s the name of the girl who I used to be friends with. It’s a strange name, autumn. Alterntative, I guess. when you think of it, no one appreciates the word anymore.
We say fall, as it we are falling into the pits of winter. Is that truly the way we see it’s beauty?
the fire in the earth reaches up through the roots of every plant and every creature and turns the bows and the limbs and the fingernails red or yellow but always to burst into oranges that freckle and spurt into the air until we breathe them, we’re breathing them all and taking in the fire from below.
It’s autumn, and I have no one to snuggle with. The winter is coming and I am not prepared. But can one really feel the temperature drop, if their heart is as cold as ice?
The red, yellow and golden leaves always made Yuri smile. The way they crunched under her step and brightened the world… she wished she cOuld brighten her world.
Autumn
red, orange,brown.
crunch,crackle.
daylight, daynight.
sleep lovely in
Autumn
crisp cool breeze on my face such the opposite of your breathe on my neck. Calming and Soothing. Crunchy beneath my feet are the leaves, Bringing a smile to my face, like the smile i bring to yours.
Kit hated autumn. Hated it and loved it at the same time. Autumn meant school which meant bullies and taunts and never knowing whether he’d make it through the day without needing to change his shirt.
It also meant Cheerios. It meant soccer and practices and tiring himself out so much that he never needed to worry about being unable to sleep. It meant freedom and it meant prison.
It was early autumn as he boarded the bus that would take him to Kelpius. First September, same day as it had been for centuries. Same day he would have started at Hogwarts. Same day he would be clambering onto a train for a journey across the UK.
He wouldn’t be riding a train today. Father and Pater had met him and Papa Paton at [estate name] with Orion and Gemini in tow. They apparated to the assigned point and said their goodbyes as they waited for the [creature] bus to arrive. It seemed…less magical, somehow.
The autumn is coming to a close, though many wish for weeks more of candy apples, cider, and bonfires.
But as all things do, autumn ends. It gives way to the biting winds of winter when the sky is so blue that it hurts your eyes, or so grey with snow that it feels like dusk all day long.
Beautiful. Perhaps sad.
And inevitable.
The summer air is gone
with only hints of the heat
that the world used to know
floating around in the corners
of the day. The leaves mimic
the warm colors, then laugh
when they change into
a crispy brown.
I see him in the corner of my eyes,
Thinking, should I go up to him and say hi?
I can’t possibly do that. Should I?
Well, this is a new year after all.
Wait. No. Oh no. He just looked at me.
Does he know that I have a crush on him?
Is he gonna like me?
Is he even gonna care?
Is he?
You know what, this is just another autumn.
There was something gorgeous about the colours scrawled across the sky, the whipping wind that had spun up from a still late autumn.
Nathan was driving home, safe behind the wheel of his Aston when it came through, driving leaves across the sky in waves. It was… Gorgeous.
The leaves fell in patterns eerily similar to those that I saw that day I fell to my death. Swirling in circles, the only way I could ever see the wind currents that run and twist through the broken buildings that used to be a city.
The Autumn leaves crumple beneath my feet as I walk to the store. I look down to see the many bright colors…but I also see a time much simpler than now. If only I could return to those Autumn days of youth.
This word has an m followed by an n. Not a whole lot of words have that unique characteristic. It also reminds me of amber, for some reason. Autumn, august, august burns red. Emo people suck. It reminds me of picking apples at an orchard when I was a kid with my family; that place, unfortunately, no longer exists. It reminds me of those sugar candies. You know the ones I’m talking about, right? The ones shaped like leaves but are entirely too rich for any grown up persons taste, but seem to be fitted just right for a child’s palate.