Fall

Head first I soared though the sky rushing past the planets. I felt a throb of heat to my body as I flew by the sun, it was a ball of fire whirling and twirling to close to my head. Ah now that my eyes could relax and take a break form looking at the sun I noticed that not only that was slowing down but that I could se them any stars above my head. I began to pick up speed going faster and faster, people gathered around the ground pointing up at he sky, pointing at me. I felt gravity above me and all around me, a rush the suddenly a bang, now all I could see was dirt. I was the girl who fell out of the sky.

The day was crisp, as autumn should be, yet a hint of spring permeated the atmosphere as the odd trio sauntered down the winding driveway.  The girl, clearly the leader, appeared tall for being only fourteen years old.  Dusty black crocs smacked the cracked pavement on her equally dirty feet.  Her red fleece jacket, too large for her flimsy frame, clung desperately to her shoulders as the rest billowed out behind her pointy elbows.  The playful breeze hurled her hair into her blue eyes and laughed as she carelessly attempted to restore order to it.  She looked almost comical – a scarecrow against a backdrop of the breathtaking Adirondacks.  Yet somehow, she belonged.

Her furry companions vied with the wind for supremacy as the breeze once more tickled their erect ears.  Determined to catch the source of their teasing, the thin white legs sprung into action as their tormentor danced away.  Defying gravity, the stocky lambs soared through the air after their cowardly adversary.  They landed with a flourish and returned to trot alongside their lanky friend.  Little black hooves scurried to keep time with big black shoes.  Before they could fully regain their breath, the invisible foe again whispered a taunt in their ears and once more they cavorted away. Read more »

The air turns crisp,

Whispering sputtered secrets in my ear;

The leaves turn to gold,

Rustling notes of a somber tune;

The clouds brood,

As careless raindrops play;

Geese hurry on their way,

As Jack Frost waits,

And winter lurks;

Yet sunbeams dance;

‘Cross window panes;

Trees keep time,

With dignity;

Open your ears,

And open your eyes,

For Fall is alive.

I had always wanted to fly. Yeah, I was one of those kids who wanted to fly so badly they jumped off the table a couple times before it hit them that they truely couldn't fly.  It was my dream to fly, and finally one day it came true. Read more »

Weather is changing

Heat is decreasing all over

Autumn leaves are coming

Trees are losing all of their leaves

Inspiring colors to your imagination

Such pretty leaves on the mountains

Falling leaves red, yellow, green, everywhere in town

Amazing patterns of colors on the trees

Little green all over the place

Little, big, medium, so many pumpkins

Fiery dancers

Twist and turn

Weave in

Weave out

To the wind’s melody

First slow

Then fast

Then silence

A pause

A breath

The dance begins afresh

Careful steps

Careless steps

Who will fall?

The wind decides,

They will all

A quiver

A shiver

Down one goes

To be at rest

Never to rise

A little sigh

In the air

They each await

Their turn

But still they dance

For a chance

To be the last

To go

            As my feet push the pedals, I look up and see the mountains in the distance.  I don’t know what their names are off the top of my head.  They don’t have distinctive shapes like Camel’s Hump or Spruce Mountain.  They’re just blue bluffs jutting from the earth in the distance.  Closer, on a hill only a few hundred yards from me, scattered Red Maples are easily noticeable in between the evergreens and duller deciduous trees, like poplar and birch.  The Red Maples have that easily recognizable bright red color in the fall that makes them extremely easy to spot.  They seem like sports of fire poking up around firewood in a woodstove, when the wood has just barely caught and is crackling, not giving off much heat, just looking nice.  I glide on a thin, light, heron-like road bike, barely pedaling past a field of corn.  It has little room between rows and could be mistaken for a wheat field from the distance.  Read more »

When I think of fall, I think of the emotion to be happy

Fall is when I was born, fall is what I thirst for.

There is no need to compare fall to any other season, because fall stands alone

You can take my pride, my friends, my life away from me, but I will always have fall

There have been so many other falls before this,

So many tons of memorys.

I remember trick or treating

I remember jumping in leaves

I remember getting up everyday and smelling the fall breeze.

In fall I smile, the only season I ever really smile in

Don't be decieved

I'm not smiling at you, im smiling at the maple trees

because they're fall and you are only you.

Fall

Fall.

A time of beautiful, colorful leaves

and preparation for the long, cold winter.

Fall.

When Halloween and Thanksgiving come,

guests arrive to chat, feast, and celebrate.

Fall.

A time for leaf pile hopping

and thick, toasty sweaters.

Fall.

When the trees turn bare

and the birds start their long trip south.

Fall.

When shining frost covers the windows Read more »

(Inspired by some of Magzdoodle's pieces...) Read more »

It's always on October nights that I believe in ghosts. After I stopped always believing ghosts, now it's only sometimes. When the roads seem to be carpeted by matted leaves, and the headlights smear in the moving air, making eye contact as they pass. It's nights like that I question the moon, that I quicken my pace, that I think about ghosts.

  Read more »

i. Smoke is beautiful. 
Twisting up from 
cigarettes & 
bonfires.
But you know I would never put that to my lips, don't you?

ii. The thing that worries me, isn't that you're talking.
It's that I think he's going to fall & you're going to end up falling with him.

iii. The air is getting 
colder & 
the leaves are
changing. 
Fall is coming.  Read more »

Fall is Freedom

Freedom is Fall,

the time for apple crisp and hot cider,

cold morning chills on the way

to the bus stop.

  Read more »

As I sit here for a while,
I listen.
By the pond I sit.
While the frogs sing their song,
I listen.
But when their sounds die away,
It is the coming of a new season.
Fall.

In the fall it is kinda chill and filled with beautiful colors on the trees that sway with the wind. When the wind blows the leaves holler in the the wind as they fall.

As I sit by the pond,
I listen.
By the pond I sit.
As the frogs sing their song,
I listen.
As the sound dies away,
it is the coming of a new season.
Fall.

I'll never forget that day,
right in the middle of May.
Everything was cast with sunshine,
meaning for summer it was time.
I looked up and saw it all,
even more amazing than fall.
It was as mysterious as the sun,
no memories like that; it stunned.
Crazily and horribly beautiful,
so fake you could call fanciful.
With the force of thunder at midnight,
I could feel my heart skip a beat.
I lost sight;
but I knew to fear there was no need,
and from my lips came the words:
That was the most brilliant color blue I've ever seen.

Even angels fall down

By Abram Capone
Rice Memorial High School, Grade 11

Our lives don't always go the way we planned,
But even in the ocean there's a piece of land.

A piece of hope or some salvation,
Saving us all from condemnation.

We need to pick our rosebuds while we may,
Smell the flowers and seize the day.

Remember your heart is window to your soul,
To open it up takes lots of self control.

The hardest thing to remember is….

CHORUS
Sometimes even our angels fall down,
But you should never see that as a reason to frown. Read more »

I love the color and shapes of Fall. i remember when me and my brother, Josh, used to jump in the colorful leaves of many shapes and sizes. I was four and my brother was six. It would be so fun to jump in the leaves. Then we would rake them up. My favorite season is Fall. I can't believe how many colors there are!I don't know why, but Fall is so great.

barely fifty degrees,
but the radiating sun still shines,
transforming my summer-goldened strands of hair
into flying sparks of fire
the wind gently sighs,
lifting them so they contrast against
a miraculously auburn landscape
the sight will be blazed into my memory
for the eternity of winters
dry summer dust trudges across
the leave-dominated stone path
it craves the rain that summer so readily supplied,
but that fall is so stingy about
as my taste buds swim in a macintosh apple sea,
geese sorrowfully sound off overhead;
they sing of summer's majesty,
but reluctantly grieve autumn's victory
in the battle of seasons
blushing trees cry tangerine teardrops,
wondering why their heirloom jewels are being taken
the frail leaves scuttle about the dying grass,
weathered brown like a grandfather's wise face,
each deepening wrinkle a tribute
to a life experience they once enriched in
they dream of the three months
of luscious emerald glory they basked in
dreading now how they are humbled as we all are
to the frigid, indifferent earth.
when the shattering silence of winter deafens me,
i will only look into my picture of autumn
to remember a kingdom ablazed in ruby Read more »

the mountain sits in front of me
as i sit here
various colors
surround my soul

as a brezze goes through me
knocking me into a daze
fall has taken over my body

the leaves gracefuly fall down
like dancers in the wind
and cover the ground
in a blanket
of color

Sonnet 18 ½

Shall I compare thee to an autumn’s dawn
The cover of nighttime has finally gone
And now I can see all your beauty inside
And all of the weakness that you tried to hide

Shall I compare thee to an autumn’s day
Your gilded skin shines like the harvested hay
Your hair falls like leaves down the lines of your face
The wind whips it like wheat, flowing with grace
Your love seems to grow like corn in a field
But nobody knows just how much it will yield

Shall I compare thee to an autumn’s night
Your eyes sparkle like stars and shed their own light Read more »

Some say that the way to make a good garden is location. Some say it’s the soil. Some say its what you put on the crops that makes them grow. I would say that it needs sunlight with a little shade in the later hours of the day. It needs to be tended to regularly. The more you pick the crops, the more you get out of the plants themselves. Manure is a good thing to look at getting. I use it every year. The thing that I just absolutely love about it is what you get out of it. This is a side of me that not a lot of people know about. I have had a lot of success with gardening myself. Read more »

Spring is leaving us
As the new season begins
It is cold and brisk

I've always been a little weird about apples.
I eat them if they are chunked, or if I have picked them off a tree myself. When I was six I used to demand apples multiple times a day, which was difficult for my parents. But they would drive me out to an orchard that was half an hour away. I'd get my own bucket and my father would carry around a wooden ladder with chipping green paint until I found a tree that smelled right. It had to smell like apple skin, apple pie, and dirt. And Halloween. When I'd find it, my father would lean the ladder against the trunk of the tree and slowly, I'd put a dewy, light-up sneaker on the first rung, and make my way up. My tiny, thick hands wrapped around green paint chips. Read more »

Please read this.

Prompt: "Dr. Seuss once wrote, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

I had nothing when I first met Ruby. I had absolutely nothing, but that day when I first glimpsed those scarlet lips, I knew that everything had changed.

It was those stunning lips that caught my attention, bright like her eyes and oh, so red – almost like that kid from my second grade class whose chapped lips made him lick them, which made them even more dry. I don’t remember his name, or anything else about him. Only those scarlet lips, sticking out like Ruby that first day. Read more »

COLORFUL LEAVES CRUNCHING
BEAUTIFUL VEIWS IN THE DISTANCE
HEAR BIRDS SING

I think I'm dreaming, but maybe I'm not,
It's dark all around, the air seems to be filled with hate,
I'm falling into the pit of dispair,
the pit of darkness,
There woln't be a light at the end of the tunnle for me,
I will fall deeper into the pit of dispair,
It will be THE END for me.
farewell to the light of laughter and friends. . .
Oh, I woke up.

Sometimes I think my feet understand when
they hit the ground,
but my brain is afraid
so I fall down.

I was invincible.
I could jump off the ledge
And fly.
I could do anything.
Say anything.
Be anything.
I was invincible.

But I forgot to knock on wood.