Francis Duggan Autumn Poems

A pleasant Autumn day of wind and sunshine
And yellow leaves depart their trees and fall
To Mother Earth who silently receives them
And wattlebirds on flowering gum trees call.
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The leaves are now brown on the deciduous trees
And there is a coolness in the afternoon breeze
It rained for a couple of hours overnight
And everywhere looks so fresh in the Autumn sunlight
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Upon the leaf litter that covers the ground
The faded rose petals lay scattered around
The last rose of Autumn has answered the call
Of the cold grim reaper and so too must we all.
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I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded rill
Running down the silent valley down along the moonlit hill
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To it's deep grave in salt water in the bosom of the sea.
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Resplendent in Summer with red flowers on her clothes
The queen of the graden has lost her last rose
On the petals of her last rose the ground insects does feed
That in Nature nothing is wasted seems so true indeed
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For April and mid Autumn such a warm day
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
A weather temperature high for the day of twenty five degrees
And white butterflies dancing in the warm breeze
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At 12 am the Autumn in her cloak of brown
Will quietly steal into the park of the town
The last day of the calendar Summer a changeable day
The sun at times behind dark gray clouds is hidden away
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The leaves on the deciduous street trees drying and turning brown
And in small groups leave their parents and silently drift down
To the deserted sidewalks of the old country town
As the sky to daylight does remove it's night gown
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The pigeon sized white long-billed corellas calling on the sunlit trees
On the last day of the calendar Autumn with scarcely a puff of breeze
On a pleasant enough evening of around eighteen degrees
Not too cool or not too warm such weather most people would please
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The last red rose of the Autumn her scattered petals lay
On the grass beside her thorny mother tree for Nature's gleaners of decay
The dark to gray wingless insects who live their lives on the ground
Where fallen leaves and flower petals are such life forms to be found
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In the blue sky a few woolly looking clouds of gray
So good to be living on such a nice day
In the sunlit park to where i am standing near
The song of the magpie lark pleasant to hear
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From the small green fields of Inches near the old Town of
Rathmore
The barn swallows have departed for the North African shore
And the oak so green in Summer changing colour looking brown
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A mid Autumn storm a violent gale
Shrieks adown the lonely vale
Adown the grassy vale it roar
At speeds of ninety miles per hour or more.
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Though the day is mild for the time of year and mild enough the weather
The Autumn leaves are falling fast as light as any feather
And ash tree now losing her leaves each day she's looking barer
A few months back in Summer's prime than her there was none fairer.
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The flowering gums a blaze of crimson flowers
And old March will soon give way to April hours
And elm once so green now wear some brown
And one by one her leaves start floating down
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An Autumn day in the wooded hills near Belgrave
Brown leaves are falling in the gentle breeze
The day is overcast and slightly chilly
And a forecast high of 17 degrees.
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The calendar Winter just a few hours away
The weather quite good for Autumn's last day
Overall it was quite warm and dry for May
Quite unseasonal weather in truth one might say
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The woodcock to breed is back on the high ground
And the swallows above old fields are flying around
And the hawthorns cloaked in their white blooms of the May
When it is Autumn here it is Spring far away,
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The last rose of Autumn has gone to decay
Her petals on the grass by her mother tree lay
The last rose on her tree she bloomed in the Fall showers
One might say of her a queen amongst flowers
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Such beautiful weather for late Autumn and May
In the blue and sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
Of a cool though a very mild coastal breeze
And the wild birds are chirping on the bushes and trees
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Why should i wish for a universal heaven when heaven is all around me
The wild birds of Nature are singing on every sunlit bush and tree
Near perfect weather for mid April a sunny high of twenty four degrees
More like a Summer's day than a day in mid Autumn with a cool and a refreshing breeze
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Quite typical mid Autumn weather behind the cloud cover of gray
Out of view in the mid evening the sun it is hidden away
A freshening wind blowing from the ocean that has it's source in Gorman's Bay
And blowing with a slight coastal drizzle it is raining in Illowa today
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In the sunny blue sky cannot see one cloud of gray
For the middle of March it is a beautiful day
A weather forecast for the day of twenty nine degrees
And the magpies are warbling on the sunlit trees
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All we have are our memories of the past
And sadly memory in some people till death does not last
Some lose their gift of memory which does seem so sad
For some things most of us take for granted we ought to feel glad
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A blue April Autumn sky without a cloud of gray
The sun shining bright in the park by the bay
The silver bill magpie flutes on a gum tree
And how lovely to hear the song of the pee wee
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The last day of the calendar Autumn and the southern May
The sun shining bright 'tis a beautiful day
O'er the coastal cliffs the pacific gulls cry
And the dark welcome swallows they chirp as they fly
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From the high ground of Claramore the old rill gurgles down
Through flatter fields of Claraghatlea a mile from Millstreet Town
And robin on the hedgerow sing his brief song of the Fall
And no mistaking the magpie by his hoarse and chattering call,
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The faint lamp of the moon is shining through the branches of the trees
And the night is calm and pleasant with a very timid breeze
And I hear the crickets chirping in the undergrowth nearby
And around the bright orange Street light the moths in circles fly,
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For to work up a breakfast appetite
I walked out in the early morning light
And pleasant birdsong filled the country air
And I felt happy and free of any care.
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The sky is dark the countryside is quiet
But the spur winged plovers cry out in the night
Above their territory they call and fly
Perhaps the hunting fox is prowling by.
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The deciduous trees in Leongatha have turned a russet brown
And life goes on as usual in the old South Gippsland Town
And there can be no mistaking the pee wees distinct call
And in the footy oval teenagers kick football.
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The water flow the colour of brown mud
And fields along the river deep in flood
And it's been raining hard since yesterday
And hungry cattle bellowing for hay.
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