Helen Hunt Jackson (18 October 1830 – 12 August 1885 / Amherst, Massachusetts)
October's Bright Blue Weather
O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;
When loud the bumblebee makes haste,
Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And goldenrod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;
When gentians roll their fingers tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;
When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;
When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;
When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;
When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October's bright blue weather.
O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October's bright blue weather.
Read poems about / on: october, june, weather, warning, together, winter, green, red, sun, sky, spring, flower, running
Comments about this poem (October's Bright Blue Weather by Helen Hunt Jackson )
PoemHunter.com Updates
-
World Day for Cultural Diversity for Dialogue and Development
celebrated on May 21st every year
-
Your Favorite Poets’ Favorite Books of Poetry
-
Daily Rituals of Famous Authors
Writers seem to be the most prone to unshakeable routines and elaborate superstitions.
-
Incredible Reading Rooms Around the World
Cozy, beautiful places to curl up with a good book...
Top 500 Poems
-
Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou
-
The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
-
Still I Rise
Maya Angelou
-
If You Forget Me
Pablo Neruda
-
Dreams
Langston Hughes
-
Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe
-
If
Rudyard Kipling
-
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
-
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
-
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou

Like Lorna, I learned this poem in the 4th or fifth grade. It has annually enriched my life I am now 82.
We were required to learn and then recite this poem back in elementary school-that is some 70 years ago and i still think of it every year when October comes around and the air is so crisp and exhilerating.