Sweet is the calm Poetry.uk

A Poem for the Fall (Autumn).

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Like an archer’s bow across the sky,

a spectrum curved up so high,

and with all its colours now to show.

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In Autumn splendour and clean air,

the equinox tells us what’s right there,

to now take stock of the axial tilt.

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And with the Crow’s calling from their crown,

the fresh rain drops cascading down,

a prelude for the short days ahead.

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Amongst the cold high up in the azure,

Geese migrate their voices pure,

and the sound rings out upon the beat.

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With all that is precious for our being,

grateful for the harvest seeing,

a church service thanks be to God.

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As the mercury decreases for the red,

and the other shades on the leaves now dead,

the light and dark to see.

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Cause, soon the Winter will be here,

for time to drink the yuletide cheer,

and then remember those before us gone.

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James Findon © 2026.