Autumn On The Family Farm Poem by Isadora Quagmire
Autumn On The Family Farm
As the colors of fall begin to turn,
And red the leaves brightly burn.
Scents of cinnamon and maple fill the air,
The frost falls thick'ning its lay'r.
Thanksgiving is coming,
Pumpkins are ripening,
Apples red we're picking,
Maple brown we're tapping.
Lakes are freezing, ice is coating the river,
Now night falls so much quicker.
There is bountiful work to be done,
Hard work, yet fun.
Forest trees are quieting,
The birds are leaving,
Squirrels their food stashing,
Much firewood we're stacking.
There's nothing like working with each other.
We, sisters and brothers,
Are all ready for the glad celebrations,
And family traditions!
Brilliant depiction of autumn! The key characteristics of autumn are painted beautifully on the canvas of this magnificent poem. And the air of thanksgiving is deeply felt through the abounding images embedded in this write.
Yeeep! That's it right there! ! ! Such brilliant images of bein on the farm in autumn! ! ! ! I looove it!
"The birds are leaving" my favourite line of your masterpiece, beautiful poem
A joyous, romping poem that well describes the fun of fall on the family farm! Makes me think of my childhood! Thank you so much for sharing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 2:27:14 PM # 1.0.0
Liked how you ended the poem. You always promote hardwork and solidarity among family members. Top Marks!