The poem, “Ode to Autumn” by John Keats greatly inspired me to write this poem. So, this poem has been written to give an honour to John Keats. His poem is a masterpiece. The difference between my poem and his poem is that he has compared Autumn to an old lady to elaborate the beauty of Autumn. While, my poem is just elaborating the beauty of Autumn. The one season of the year that god seemed to have put there just for the beauty of it. I hope you all like it.
Season of fitful gusts and mellow fruitfulness.
Close blossom days of childhood.
And, the mossy elm trees takes the fade leaves away.
Fills the casement all the day with fruits and flowers.
The autumn and spring seems to be conspiring with each other.
Twirling it by the vines that round the thatch-caves run.
With thousand others mossed cottage trees.
And, the trees get fulfilled with the extreme ripeness of fruits.
Like the shaking twig that dance till the shut of eve.
Yet, the gusts shakes up and swell the gourd.
To plump the hazel shells.
Birds sing, bees sting.
And, the chirping of birds with the sweet kernel of bees.
Conspiring with the autumn and spring.
Indulge in leads to make us believe that warm days will never cease.
That spring sings an ode to autumn yet, the summer laps with flowers to bloom.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy mist
Curling upward through the blossom trees.
Drowse with the cottage smoke while thy hook.
Spares the next swathe and all in twinned flowers.
Nestled around the vineyard.
Adjoining the roots with the extreme ripeness.
Like, the autumn watch the drop by drop of the grape juice oozing from the cider press.
From dazzling days to dull November days.
The clock is all set upon the two illusions that flourished.
Fall across the stubbled lea.
Adorned near the old crown trees and scrambled by the maturing sun.
While, barred clouds bloom the soft dying days.
And touch the old days with rosy hue.
Yet, sinking as the light wind lives.
Embellished the wind with whistles from the garden rift.
Like, gathering of the skies on the surface of cloud.
The full grown clouds reminds of the sallows among the river, soft whispering of the autumn wind,
And, the chirping of birds from the hillside.
The twittering of the swallows are all made during the autumn.
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