FALL 2013 Poetry Contest

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Our FALL POETRY CONTEST deadline is the first day of winter (December 21).

Please share your poetry with the Almanac community!  (You can enter the poem in this thread or, even better, start a new topic. Go to the main Poetry Forum page (www.almanac.com/forums/poetry-forum) and click the button, "New Topic.")

Prize: We’ll give a bundle of Almanac products to the poet(s) liked best by the editors and Almanac community. We also thought it might be nice to send off a prize to one random winner—to acknowledge all the brave souls who are willing to share their poems!

We'll announce the winners in January in our Almanac Companion enewsletter and here on our Web site.

Rules and Terms: This space is not for professional writers or photographers. In sharing content on this Web site, you agree that it does not infringe copyrights or other property rights of any party. All content submitted becomes the property of Yankee Publishing, Inc. by appearing here. You also agree that the content you are submitting is your own. You may delete your content at will at any time.

 

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Joined: 2013-07-06
Poem: Walks of Life

The daily walks continue,
Prescribed now for the rest of our lives!
Together, we walk from summer to fall.
Winter next! We think this is the best time of all.

Summer changing to fall,
We walk beside the Canadian creek,
We see youths on bikes (or leftovers from bonfires parties)!
Joggers, seniors (walkers like us), creek scientists, and sometimes no one at all!

We love the cooler air and fall colors,
Seeing the wildlife grow up too.
Great packs of geese now; nests gone!
Waiting for signal to move along.

A great way of life indeed!
We feel better all the time!
Our Canadian life is just fine!
May it long be yours and mine!

So get out and about,
Walk around your town!
It makes a fine addition to each day!
Feel better too, energy and health improved! Hurray!

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Joined: 2009-08-10
A creative topic for a

A creative topic for a poem--and upbeat! Thanks for sharing. 

Michelle Cote
Poetry

Tree Revealed
What makes the tree branch grow so twisted?
Growing unnoticed until autumn insisted
In stripping the tree of its life giving leaves
To question the truth in all we believe
The tree knows the truth; its faith is not shaken
The sun will return it is never mistaken
Life will sprout new with Spring’s freshest breeze
Restoring our faith, to make us believe
In all that is good, renewed, but concealed
Until autumn commands that the truth be revealed.

Walkersfaith
Loved your poem

That is so wonderful, the path that you walked me on to see the the changing of the seasons as a right of passage and not an intrusion upon the landscape. LOVED IT LOVED IT LOVED IT> God is Good!

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Joined: 2014-01-08
Inspirational

Beautifully written, and very insiteful. I thouroghly enjoyed reading it.

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Great concept, Michelle. We

Great concept, Michelle. We like that there’s actually something at stake in this poem, which is crucial, and admirable. It’s getting at our general hypocrisy, loving the green, leafy tree, but not the gnarled, winter trunk below. The tree itself becomes the hero of this poem, biding its time with the knowledge (one of Christian rebirth?) that things are cyclical, and life will return. This seems a good response to our prompt: send us a poem about fall. It’s quite a bit different from poems which simply praise or simply mourn the passing of the seasons: this contains both. The anapestic form of the poem is ambitious—it’s hard to keep up that smooth, wavy pace without fumbling. But all in all, it’s well done. The last rhyme—“concealed” with “revealed”—is a meaningful one, and a high point. Thank you!

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Hi, Michelle, You are the

Hi, Michelle Cote, You are the winner of this poetry contest! Please email us at:  AlmanacEditors@yankeepub.com with your mailing address and we'll get your Almanac bundle in the mail to you!
Thank you again for sharing your beautiful poem!
Sincerely,
The Old Farmer's Almanac editors

Michele Warch
Congratulations!

Congratulations!

Prancer
The Winner!

Congratulations! This is one proud prancer! :)

Michele Warch
Autumn Fire

My mother wraps herself in fire,
Orange and gold and reds on pyre.

It is the glory that she reaps,
Before she lays herself to sleep.

The rain and wind will bring to pass,
The nakedness upon us fast.

And then, my mother will lay bare,
Vast within stark beauty there.

Her breasts upon the rushing shores,
A change to give the gull that soars.

Empty womb of time and grace,
We'll finally view her true face.

Instead of riotous colors of spring,
We'll see the beauty of simple things.

The lines of trees stretched as her hair.
Immense and lovely-- spare.

The curves and mounds, her own defense,
So easily pressed upon our sense.

The grace of winter's blanket of white,
Blinding us with glorious light.

My mother, earth, is great and strong,
She's carried us all so long.

I await her wakening in the spring,
To turn the world round to sing.

In the time that shall pass til then,
I'm grateful for the quiet bend.

My mother, she is laid so bare,
That I wish to crawl in glory, there.

Christine Barnette
Autumn Fire

Beautifully written.

Michele Warch
:)

:)

Jennifer Raley
Learning from the Tree

While dormant you would seem,
You drank from sun’s beam.
For new life your branches prepare,
Soon leaves will flourish, though now bare.
Until one day I’ll see you,
All leaves fresh and new.

How suddenly they seemed to sprout,
As if you never were without.
In the summer’s heat you’ll offer shade,
And I’ll rest below on grassy blade.

Fall will come and radiant you’ll be,
Each leaf defined in bright colors we’ll see.
Furnishing children with leaves in which to hide,
Lending heat to those who stand beside,
As small bonfires of leaves are consumed.
These leaves with which you once bloomed.

Yet, as I watched your withered leaf fall,
I knew that was not your all.
For in sleep you lie once again.
No, your beauty did not end.
For in the moment I watched that leaf,
It regenerated my belief.
Belief that all is not in vain.
No matter how bare, or how plain.
That growth continues on,
Life is not yet gone.

It was through your brittle leaf falling,
I heard small voice calling.
That no matter what, you put forth your all.
And even in that moment of the leaf’s fall,
I beheld your beauty in strength, durability and grace.
It stirred in my heart’s quiet place.
That through fading fall, bloom of spring,
No matter what, to God, glory do you bring.

If only I could in my life’s pages,
Do what you have done for ages.

Circa, 1980 Jennifer Raley

Jennifer Raley
Thank you

Thank you for the opportunity to post my poem.

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Joined: 2013-06-06
fall poem

Trees
Yellow and red
Trees
In a few months might look dead
Trees
Give us the air we breath
Trees
We love you indeed

Gregory j. Anderson

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Nicely done. We like the

Nicely done. We like the repeating “Trees” line.

bil white
spring shout out

Fall as you call it
Kinda makes me feel sick
With all of the dust
I know that it must
With the frost on my windshield I really can't see
Raking leaves aint my cup of tee
I put them in the garden I till them up
I miss my kid this time of the year
He's always in school
I never see him
I have to buy coats and all of that kinda gear
Because of my boy who grows every year
The news talks about colds
This time of the year
I don't want the flu
Or wish it on you
I would rather have spring
It's my wish for you.

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Joined: 2009-08-07
Autumn

Gone is Summer and with its fruits

Along comes Autumn when trees lose their suits

Falling to the ground in colors so bold

A wonderful sight for ones eyes to behold

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Thank you for sharing your

Thank you for sharing your poem! We like the reference to trees wearing suits of leaves. 

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Joined: 2009-08-07
The Terrace garden

The gardener quit late last Fall
Well he never got paid after all
So I'd take over or so I said
To manage the terrace garden bed
Lots of tomatoes and peppers this time
My parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Survived their first Winter nice as you please
A neighbor grew lettuce - another sweet peas
With all the weird weather - or my lack of skill
The garden grew poorly, looks pitiful still
And try as I might prune, pray and plead
All the parsley could do was go to seed
But I gathered them all - none went to waste
And I'll plant them next year with a little less haste

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Thanks for the smile! Good

Thanks for the smile! Good rhythm/rhyme. Enjoyed the beginner gardening perspective.

K Owen
Hail Autumn!

Oh! Here are the autumn leaves again,
How silently they fall
And yet, they're crisp beneath your feet
So crunch-i-ly they call!

To happily trip through all those leaves
Makes such a sound inviting
With an Autumn nip in the freshest of air
So chilly, almost biting

A colored leaf dances in the air
You cannot look away
Such a delight to watch this sight
On a crispy autumn day

It floats and flutters on and on
Alight on Autumn air
Dancing, dipping, swirling, twirling
You cannot help but stare

It gently lights upon the ground
Dance of color and grace now ends
Awaiting a step for the crunching sound
Such delight 'round every road's bend

The quilts come out of cupboards,
So cozy inside at rest
Sipping mulled apple cider,
'Tis Autumn-time that I love best

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Joined: 2009-08-10
To us, this poem imparts such

To us, this poem imparts such joy of the season! It makes us smile. Crunchy leaves, falling leaves, crisp air, quilts, cider, -- all the pleasures of autumn. A simply happy poem. Thank you!

Michele Warch
Winner?

Winner?

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Thanks for adding your

Thanks for adding your comment!  We will keep this contest open until the end of fall.

Michele Warch
was there ever an end? Such a

was there ever an end? Such a lovely variety!

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Joined: 2009-08-10
2013 Winners

We agree! The variety was wonderful and we really enjoyed reading all the poems!

We apologize that it took a while for the Almanac judges to get together and select winners! 

The first prize is "Tree Revealed." It might not sound like “a winner.” But there’s actually something at stake in this poem, which is crucial, and admirable. It’s getting at our general hypocrisy, loving the green, leafy tree, but not the gnarled, winter trunk below. The tree itself becomes the hero of this poem, biding its time with the knowledge (one of Christian rebirth?) that things are cyclical, and life will return. The last rhyme—“concealed” with “revealed”—is a meaningful one, and a high point.
The honorary prize is "Terrace Garden." We liked to hear from a beginning gardener. It’s phrased very nicely in places (“And try as I might, prune, pray, and plead…” A good effort.

Peter Kuhn
Live Oak trees in Florida

Late spring, early summer.
the changing of the guard.
The Live Oak cedes it’s withered leaves,
brown skeletons in my yard.

Their snap is keen beneath my feet,
the bones of past existence,
yet catkins fall and coat us all
in dust of life’s insistence.~ Peter Kuhn

Belinda Fogarty
Missing you...

You left and the rain came
It washes over the earth like tears running down my cheeks
The drip drip drip
From the edge of the eaves
Splash into a puddle of memories
As moister drips from my chin along my neck
To dampen the collar of my robe

Cathi Turnbull
contest entry

Love is my heart,
Love is when your heart dies,
It's part of family, remembering the fun times.
All the laughs, the giggles.
It's heartbreaking to have your heart die.
You lose half of yourself.
You lose your best friend.
The best friend a girl could ever have.
Your a half of person, a shell.
Love is :DAD.

Michael H.
the autumn holy

I close my eyes
and awake to a later sun,
breathing in crisp, cool air
and notice the earthy, damp smell of an autumn morning.

A fog lazily wraps it's cotton blanket
around the tent and campsite,
diffusing the morning light from above;
preventing me from seeing more than thirty feet away.

Warming myself by the fire,
I take a sip of fresh, hot tea
smell the cooking sausage,
and listen to the few chirping birds break the quiet.

The fog soon recedes
and cool sunlight beams,
revealing the woodlands around us;
the brilliantly colored forest, still full of leaves.
The stoic and stalwart trees,
barely awake, ready for a long sleep,
ever-so-slightly moving and creaking in unison
to the wind's gentle rhythm.

Extravagantly clothed in magnificent colors,
varied hues of yellow, orange, and red,
more beautiful than...
any words that I can conceive and write down.

Walking in between the tall trees
I am struck by the stillness of it all;
squirrels and birds relax and quiet;
even the animals seem in reverence of this holy time.

As I breathlessly worship,
a hard wind breaks the calm,
and reveals the tree's nakedness
like a painter scraping paint off her masterpiece.

Streams of yellow, orange, and red
blow past my head
and surround me, flying through the air
as colder, chillier air moves in.

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Michael, I really liked your

Michael, I really liked your poem. I can see, smell, taste, feel, and hear what you are describing -- what it’s like to be out in nature, to just be. I liked that simplicity and found it peaceful.
I especially like the image at the end of a painter scraping the canvas, and can imagine the falling leaves as chips of paint. 

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Joined: 2009-08-10
Fall 2013 Winners

We apologize that it took a while for the Almanac judges to get together and select winners! Thank you to ALL who entered. We are honored.
The first prize is "Tree Revealed." It might not sound like “a winner.” But there’s actually something at stake in this poem, which is crucial, and admirable. It’s getting at our general hypocrisy, loving the green, leafy tree, but not the gnarled, winter trunk below. The tree itself becomes the hero of this poem, biding its time with the knowledge (one of Christian rebirth?) that things are cyclical, and life will return. The last rhyme—“concealed” with “revealed”—is a meaningful one, and a high point.
The honorary prize is "Terrace Garden." We liked to hear from a beginning gardener. It’s phrased very nicely in places (“And try as I might, prune, pray, and plead…” A good effort.

Mildred Kay
Pleasure

This is my first visit here. Thank you for the wonderful poems, visions, and sheer pleasure I found.

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