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Autumn works of children from the kindergarten

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I LOVE THE SADNESS OF AUTUMN..

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Autumn - colorful and beautiful,gentle yellow, bright, lively.Late and brown,wrapped in silence,and also red, bright,bathed in the light.

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Autumn - colorful and beautiful,gentle yellow, bright, lively.Late and brown,wrapped in silence,and also red, bright,bathed in the light.

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детска песен

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Детски песнички: Есен в гората (Вятърко листи в гората пилей)

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Една любима детска песничка по стихове на Димитър Спасов и музика на Петър Ступел.

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Autumn in my school

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OŠ "Cazin I" Cazin - Bosnia and Herzegovina

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OŠ "Cazin I" Cazin - Bosnia and Herzegovina

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Zaljubiću se, odlučih iznenada. Jesen je, doduše, ali malo sam prestar da bih čekao samo na proljeća...
(Đ. B.)

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The Leaves Are Falling Down
The leaves are falling down,
The leaves are falling down,
School is here and fall in near,
The leaves are falling down.

The leaves are falling down,
The leaves are falling down,
Some are red and some are brown,
The leaves are falling down.

The leaves are falling down,
The leaves are falling down,
They tickle your nose and touch your toes,
The leaves are falling down.
June Haggard

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Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud
At dawn, a fortnight overdue,
Jostling the doors, and tearing through
My bedroom to rejoin the cloud,
I know—for I can hear the hiss
And scrape of leaves along the floor—
How may boughs, lashed bare by this,
Will rake the cluttered sky once more.
Tardy, and somewhat south of east,
The sun will rise at length, made known
More by the meagre light increased
Than by a disk in splendour shown;
When, having but to turn my head,
Through the stripped maple I shall see,
Bleak and remembered, patched with red,
The hill all summer hid from me.

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“There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves.”

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September
September means its time again
For going off to school.
The days are getting shorter
And the nights are getting cool.

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Everything that makes fall the best season, put perfectly into words.

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October
October’s the month
When the smallest breeze
Gives us a shower
Of autumn leaves.
Bonfires and pumpkins,
Leaves sailing down –
October is red
And golden and brown.

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It is autumn; not without
But within me is the cold.
Youth and spring are all about;
It is I that have grown old.

Birds are darting through the air,
Singing, building without rest;
Life is stirring everywhere,
Save within my lonely breast.

There is silence: the dead leaves
Fall and rustle and are still;
Beats no flail upon the sheaves,
Comes no murmur from the mill.

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“And I rose
In rainy autumn
And walked abroad in a shower of all my days...”
― Dylan Thomas, Collected Poems

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“Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?”

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November
No sunshine, lots of rain,
No warm days, snow again
No bugs or bees,
No leaves on trees.
You must remember
This is NOvember!

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Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.

Hark to a voice that is calling
To my heart in the voice of the wind:
My heart is weary and sad and alone,
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,
And why should I stay behind?

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“Listen! The wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves,
We have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!”

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“He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

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How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.
At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.

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The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."

And tonight the heavy earth is falling
away from all other stars in the loneliness.

We're all falling. This hand here is falling.
And look at the other one. It's in them all.

And yet there is Someone, whose hands
infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.

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“I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house."

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“Love the trees until their leaves fall off, then encourage them to try again next year.”

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“Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.”

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“Love the trees until their leaves fall off, then encourage them to try again next year.”
― Chad Sugg

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All the leaves are falling down,
Orange, yellow, red and brown.
Falling softly as they do,
Over me and over you.
All the leaves are falling down,
Orange, yellow, red and brown.

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The moon shimmers in green water.
White herons fly through the moonlight.

The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts:
into the night, singing, they paddle home together.

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“Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like
they're falling in love with the ground.”
― Andrea Gibson

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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.

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Departed leaves. The ground is hard, As hard as stone. The year is old, The birds are flown. And yet the world, In its distress, Displays a certain Loveliness…

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“It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon.”
― Sarah Addison Allen, First Frost

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“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
Albert Camus

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Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

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All the leaves are falling down, Orange, yellow, red and brown. Falling softly as they do, Over me and over you.