Autumn Poems

The Autumn poems you’ll find below reflect cooler days, the loss of summer dreams, and a little humor as the season of Fall is welcomed – or at least begrudingly acknowledged.

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Some hate to see summer fade away, yet others look forward to the change in seasons - football games capture the minds and hearts of many; the aromas of favorite soups or casseroles linger in the air; and children can’t wait until Halloween.






I Like Autumn

I’m alive again and don’t sweat so much
My favorite sweatshirt has a special touch.
I like those colors that the leaves change to
And I wonder who’ll be the first to say BOO!

~ Evamay

Whether the fall season makes you melancholy or invigorated, I hope you have a good one – and please enjoy these poems.






Poems I

- November Night by Adelaide Crapsey

- As Summer into Autumn slips by Emily Dickinson

- Nature XXVII by Emily Dickinson

- My November Guest by Robert Frost

- After Apple Picking by Robert Frost

- Gathering Leaves by Robert Frost


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Poems II

- The Harvest Moon by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

- Autumn Daybreak by Edna St. Vincent Millay

- The Death of Autumn by Edna St. Vincent Millay

- An Autumn Valentine by Dorothy Parker

- Autumn Movement by Carl Sandburg

- Three Pieces on the Smoke of Autumn by Carl Sandburg


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Poems III

- November Morning by Evaleen Stein

- Autumn Fires by Robert Louis Stevenson

- I am the autumnal sun by Henry David Thoreau

- Autumn in the Garden by Henry Van Dyke

-An Autumn Sunset by Edith Wharton




Share Your Autumn Poems

Share your favorite autumn poem. It might be a favorite poem, a poem from an author you like, or it might even be a poem you have written. We'd love to read it. You can even include a picture to go with your poem.

Other Visitors Autumn Poems

Click below to see contributions from other visitors to this page...

It's Time For Fall Not rated yet
The leaves are changing color, It's beginning to cool down, The kids are back in school, And they all have a great big frown. It's also …

Autumn Not rated yet
Autumn is like an old book: Marred spines turn mean yellow, staples rust red-orange. Every stained page is stressed by a splat of color. Rough-red, …

The leaf Not rated yet
Fate's desire caught my eye; A destined glance towards nature's sky. The sight, the thought, emotions torn. There you hung amidst the morn. A hue which …

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