Autumn Leaves on a Sunday Afternoon
Autumn leaves …
Autumn leaves on a Sunday afternoon
Lay scattered upon my parlour floor
Colors of gold, brown, and maroon
And delightful shapes galore
With my large basket on my arm
And my camera in my hand
A stroll I took in sun so warm
Around this beautiful land
I gathered the leaves from the ground
And placed in the basket with care
Came inside and scattered them around
Upon my carpet here and there
So lovely they look upon the floor
A touch of Autumn for me to enjoy
I think I will go and gather more
It reminds me of my girl and boy
~ ~ ~
Memoir ~
I wrote this poem and memory about two years ago on a gorgeous autumn day. The beautiful pictures I
took are lost, but the memories are vivid.
I love Autumn, the lovely colors and crispiness of the leaves as I walk along the path. The fragrance of
Autumn is like no other season. I was sitting on my patio, watching the squirrels eat as I tossed
peanuts to them, and a lovely little leave floated over the railing and landed by my feet. I picked it
up and admired the beauty of it. Then I remembered how fun it was when my kids were young and
we raked the leaves into a big pile then jumped in them. The kids would roll in the crispy leaves and
beg me to cover them up so they could jump out and throw the leaves up in the air. Then we would
rake them up again. This kept all three of us entertained for at least an hour.
One day my son wanted to take the beautiful autumn leaves inside and put them on his bed when he
took a nap, so he could smell them as he dozed off to sleep. I was a good housekeeper, however, I never
did mind the funny little things my kids enjoyed. If sleeping with leaves is what they wanted, that is
what they got. I just vacuumed them up later.
So, remembering those days with my kids when they were little, I grabbed my basket and went leaf
hunting. I got quite a few and took some pictures of others and a few trees then came back inside. The
smell of the leaves was so wonderful. I put some on the carpet and took a picture of them.
That was a delightful way for me to spend my Sunday afternoon which brought back wonderful
memories, so, I wrote this poem about my Autumn Leaves On A Sunday Afternoon.
~ ~ ~
© 2016 Phyllis Doyle Burns
I have always liked to write.It is important to me that writing comes from my heart and soul. When writing poetry, if I do not feel a spiritual connection to what I am writing on, I will discard it and go on to something I can connect with on a spiritual level. I live in the moment, I write from the past or beyond the veil. When writing fiction I go with whatever inspires me at the moment - it could be funny, sorrowful, romantic or sometimes done with the use of colloquial language from mountain folk or other cultural regions.
I began writing content online in 2007, starting with BellaOnline - A Voice For Women, where I was the Native American Editor, Folklore & Mythology Editor, and the Appalachian Editor. I also wrote articles forThe Examiner, Daily Two Cents, and Yahoo. I am currently an author on HubPages.
Most of what I write takes a lot of research and I love it. Even if it is a fictional story, I will research for accuracy in whatever it takes to make my characters, their era, their location, etc. become realistic to the reader.
I hope you enjoy my works. Thank you for visiting.
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Lovely Phyllis, a wonderful memory of autumn, my favorite also. When I was a kid, we had an old ‘Liquid Amber’ tree and my autumn job was to rake up all those multicolored leaves that were eventually burnt in our incinerator. But not before I immersed myself in crunchy leaves and autumns colored coat. Wonderful memories beautifully penned.
Ah! those crunchy leaves. There is nothing quite like immersing yourself in them. Beautiful time of the year when Mother Nature wears all her magnificent colors. Thank you so much, Tony, for the wonderful comment and sharing your autumn fun.
Wonderful poem about Autumn, Phyllis. Thank you for sharing the memories as well. I love Autumn and the rich colours it produces. Well done.
Oh! Thank you, John. Autumn is so beautiful. The air is pleasant and even when the temperature is high, it is a different kind of heat – kind of like a cozy blanket.
Phyllis , I love the entire thought of this writing ! Autumn is , I believe , actually who I am at heart .
For some of us autumn seems to be the collective definition of our souls ,constant introspective comes to mind , analytical in our emotions and thoughts , probably not a great combination for living a very exciting life , especially as when we were young people ! But , we are who we are and if autumn is who I am then I will be totally happy in the end . And here we arrive at that time of year !
My best wishes for your remembrances ! Love this poem !
Ed, what a sweet, dear comment you leave me. Thank you so much, dear friend. Yes, we are who we are and if you are autumn we are kindred spirits. Take care.
I remember Autumn the most. Jamie