Autumn is a beautiful time of the year that most children love. Clear and brighter sky, soothing sun rays, and cool breeze whispers a natural song that fills you with joy. Our collection of euphonious autumn poems for kids describe the beauty of autumn aptly. Read these poems and share them with your children to learn them about thus pleasant and peaceful season. Keep seasonal recipes on the table to will win children’s hearts. Sit with your child and read these poems to them to make the season more memorable. It will also help you introduce your child to renowned poets. You could also inspire them to write a poem on autumn.
19 Best Autumn Poems For Kids
1.Besides the Autumn poets sing
Besides the Autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze — A few incisive mornings — A few Ascetic eves — Gone – Mr Bryant’s “Golden Rod” — And Mr Thomson’s “sheaves.” Still, is the bustle in the brook — Sealed are the spicy valves — Mesmeric fingers softly touch The eyes of many Elves — Perhaps a squirrel may remain — My sentiments to share — Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind — Thy windy will to bear!
Author biography: Emily Dickinson (1830–86) was born in Amherst, Massachusetts. She was a prolific poet who loved sending poems in letters to friends and family. Her first volume of poems was published posthumously in 1890.
2. October
O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; To-morrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; To-morrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow, Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know; Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; One from our trees, one far away; Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow! For the grapes’ sake, if they were all, Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, Whose clustered fruit must else be lost— For the grapes’ sake along the wall.
Author biography: Robert Frost (1874–1963) is one of the most popular American poets and is known for publishing several poetry collections. He was born in San Francisco. He is the only poet to receive four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry.
3. Blackberry Eating
I love to go out in late September among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries to eat blackberries for breakfast, the stalks very prickly, a penalty they earn for knowing the black art of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries fall almost unbidden to my tongue, as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words like strengths or squinched, many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps, which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well in the silent, startled, icy, black language of blackberry-eating in late September.
Author biography: Galway Kinnell (1927–2014) was born in Providence, Rhode Island. He was a recipient of the Pulitzer Prize and the Wallace Stevens Award for proven mastery in the art of poetry.
4.O Autumn, Autumn!
O Autumn, Autumn! O pensive light and wistful sound Gold-haunted sky, green-haunted ground! When, wan, the dead leaves flutter by Deserted realms of butterfly! When robins band themselves together To seek the sound of sun-steeped weather; And all of summer’s largesse goes For lands of olive and the rose!
Author biography: Effie Lee Newsome (1885–1979) was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She was one of the first African American poets to publish poems for children. She served as the children’s librarian at Central State University, Ohio.
5. Autumn
In the dreamy silence Of the afternoon, a Cloth of gold is woven Over wood and prairie; And the jaybird, newly Fallen from the heaven, Scatters cordial greetings, And the air is filled with Scarlet leaves, that, dropping, Rise again, as ever, With a useless sigh for Rest—and it is Autumn.
Author biography: Alexander Posey (1873–1908) was a Muskogee Creek poet, journalist, and humorist. Alexander was popularly known for his poems, which were posthumously published by his wife in 1910.
6. From The Kitten And Falling Leaves
See the kitten on the wall, sporting with the leaves that fall, Withered leaves—one—two—and three, from the lofty elder-tree! Through the calm and frosty air, of this morning bright and fair . . . —But the kitten, how she starts; Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts! First at one, and then its fellow, just as light and just as yellow; There are many now—now one—now they stop and there are none; What intenseness of desire, in her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap half way, now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then, has it in her power again: Now she works with three or four, like an Indian Conjuror; Quick as he in feats of art, far beyond in joy of heart.
Author biography: William Wordsworth (1770–1850) was born in the United Kingdom. He was an English poet who introduced the Romantic Age in English literature.
7. The Wild Swans At Coole
The trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine and fifty swans. The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings. I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight, The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread. Unwearied still, lover by lover, They paddle in the cold, Companionable streams or climb the air; Their hearts have not grown old; Passion or conquest, wander where they will, Attend upon them still. But now they drift on the still water Mysterious, beautiful; Among what rushes will they build, By what lake’s edge or pool Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day To find they have flown away?
Author biography: William Butler Yeats (1865–1939) is widely known as one of the greatest poets of the English language. He received the 1923 Nobel Prize for Literature. His works greatly influenced the politics and heritage of Ireland.
8. November
November’s days are thirty: November’s earth is dirty, Those thirty days, from first to last; And the prettiest thing on ground are the paths With morning and evening hobnails dinted, With foot and wing-tip overprinted Or separately charactered, Of little beast and little bird. The fields are mashed by sheep, the roads Make the worst going, the best the woods Where dead leaves upward and downward scatter. Few care for the mixture of earth and water, Twig, leaf, flint, thorn, Straw, feather, all that men scorn, Pounded up and sodden by flood, Condemned as mud. But of all the months when earth is greener Not one has clean skies that are cleaner. Clean and clear and sweet and cold, They shine above the earth so old, While the after-tempest cloud Sails over in silence though winds are loud, Till the full moon in the east Looks at the planet in the west And earth is silent as it is black, Yet not unhappy for its lack. Up from the dirty earth men stare: One imagines a refuge there Above the mud, in the pure bright Of the cloudless heavenly light: Another loves earth and November more dearly Because without them, he sees clearly, The sky would be nothing more to his eye Than he, in any case, is to the sky; He loves even the mud whose dyes Renounce all brightness to the skies.
Author biography: Philip Edward Thomas (1878–1917) was born in London. He was a close friend of the famous poet Robert Frost. He wrote most of his poems while serving as a soldier during World War I, and was killed in the war in France.
9. Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou seest the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consum’d by that which it was nourished by. This thou perceiv’st which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Author biography: William Shakespeare (1564–1616) was born in Stratford-upon-Avon, United Kingdom. He is a legendary poet and actor, and is widely recognized as the greatest writer in the English language.
10. Autumn Fires
In the other gardens And all up in the vale, From the autumn bonfires See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over, And all the summer flowers, The red fire blazes, The grey smoke towers. Sing a song of seasons! Something bright in all! Flowers in the summer, Fires in the fall!
Author biography: Robert Louis Stevenson (1850–1894) was born in Edinburgh, United Kingdom. He was a famous Scottish novelist, poet, and travel writer. Some of his popular works include Treasure Island, Kidnapped, Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, and A Child’s Garden of Verses.
11. Pleasant Sounds
The rustling of leaves under the feet in woods and under hedges; The crumpling of cat-ice and snow down wood-rides, narrow lanes and every street causeway; Rustling through a wood or rather rushing, while the wind halloos in the oak-toop like thunder; The rustle of birds’ wings startled from their nests or flying unseen into the bushes; The whizzing of larger birds overhead in a wood, such as crows, puddocks, buzzards; The trample of robins and woodlarks on the brown leaves. and the patter of squirrels on the green moss; The fall of an acorn on the ground, the pattering of nuts on the hazel branches as they fall from ripeness; The flirt of the groundlark’s wing from the stubbles – how sweet such pictures on dewy mornings, when the dew flashes from its brown feathers.
Author biography: John Clare (1793–1864) was born in Helpstone, United Kingdom. He was born to a farmer’s family and is known for celebrating the English countryside in his poems.
12. Autumn, Queen of Year
When the pumpkins are so yellow And the vines with grapes abound, When the melons are so mellow And the nuts fall to the ground; When persimmons lose their bitters, And the apples are so red; When we love to eat corn fritters Since the roasting ears have fled; When vacation days are over And the children go to school, They no longer play in clover, But much learn “Arithmos-rule,” When weird Hallowe’en’s most naughty elves With gnomes and sprites appear, While fat Thanksgiving fills the shelves – ‘Tis AUTUMN, QUEEN OF YEAR.
Author biography: Winifred Sackville Stoner, Jr. (1902–1983) was born in Evansville, Indiana. She had an illustrated book of her poems published when she was just six years old and was known for speaking more than five languages.
13. Plums
When their time comes they fall without wind, without rain. They seep through the trees’ muslin in a slow fermentation. Daily the low sun warms them in a late love that is sweeter than summer. In bed at night we hear heartbeat of fruitfall. The secretive slugs crawl home to the burst honeys, are found in the morning mouth on mouth, inseparable. We spread patchwork counterpanes for a clean catch. Baskets fill, never before such harvest, such a hunters’ moon burning the hawthorns, drunk on syrups that are richer by night when spiders pitch tents in the wet grass. This morning the red sun is opening like a rose on our white wall, prints there the fishbone shadow of a fern. The early blackbirds fly guilty from a dawn haul of fallen fruit. We too breakfast on sweetnesses. Soon plum trees will be bone, grown delicate with frost’s formalities. Their black angles will tear the snow.
Author biography: Gillian Clarke (b. 1937) is a Welsh poet and playwright. She has received the prestigious Cholmondeley Award and the Queen’s Gold Medal for Poetry award for her excellence in poetry.
14. From Sunset To Star Rise
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot, Dwell in your pleasant places, hoard your gold; Lest you with me should shiver on the wold, Athirst and hungering on a barren spot…
Author biography: Christina Georgina Rossetti (1834–1894) was a devoted English poet. She published her first poems at the age of 12 and dedicated her life to writing various devotional, romantic, and children’s poems.
15. Autumn Rain
The plane leaves fall black and wet on the lawn; the cloud sheaves in heaven’s fields set droop and are drawn in falling seeds of rain; the seed of heaven on my face falling — I hear again like echoes even that softly pace heaven’s muffled floor …
Author biography: David Herbert (D.H.) Lawrence (1885–1930) was an English poet and writer. He primarily writes about the effects of industrialization on humanity in his novels, short stories, poems, and plays.
16. The Last Leaf
A few leaves stay for a while on the trees After their color begins to turn, And no other leaves seem as gold as these Not even the ones our bonfires burn With golden flames in piles on the ground. A few leaves stay so long that I found The one last leaf on a tree in the snow, And when a galloping wind came round The edge of our house and started to blow Snow dust to sparkles floating free. When the wind ran away, almost with me, And sunshine settled quiet and cold. There, like a bird, still on the tree Was that lonesome leaf, no longer gold But curly and brown and dry and old.
Author biography: Harry Behn (1898–1973) was a renowned American screenwriter and children’s author. It is said that he began writing children’s books at the request of his children.
17. Summer’s End
One by one the petals drop There’s nothing that can make them stop. You cannot beg a rose to stay. Why does it have to be that way? The butterflies I used to chase Have gone off to some other place. I don’t know where. I only know I wish they didn’t have to go. And all the shiny afternoons So full of birds and big balloons And ice cream melting in the sun Are done. I do not want them done
Author biography: Judith Viorst (b. 1931) is an American writer, psychoanalysis researcher, and newspaper journalist. She is recognized for her humorous poetry and writings for children. She lives in Washington, DC.
18. A Leaf
If I were a leaf (but I wouldn’t be) I’d have to be tied to a tree, tree, tree. I couldn’t walk off (or skip or run) and my nose would get burned by the sun, sun, sun. In summer I’d roast, (in winter I’d freeze) and all through October I’d sneeze, sneeze, sneeze.
Author biography: Aileen Lucia Fisher (1906–2002) was born in Iron River, Michigan. She wrote more than a hundred children’s books, including poetry collections, picture books with verses, and biographies. She received the National Council of Teachers of English Award for Excellence in Poetry for Children in 1978.
19. Five Little Pumpkins
Five Little Pumpkins sitting on a gate, The First one said “Oh my it’s getting late!” The second one said “There’s a chill in the air.” The Third one said “But we don’t care!” The Fourth one said “let’s Run and Run and Run.” The Fifth one said “I’m ready for some fun.” Oooooooo went the wind. and Out went the lights! And the five little pumpkins rolled out of sight!
Author biography: Dan Yaccarino (b. 1965) is an American author and producer of animated series. He has written several children’s books.
