The air grows cool with whispers low
As leaves drift down in a golden flow
The trees wear crowns of russet and flame
Each day arrives yet never the same
A hush of smoke curls from distant fires
The dusk draws near with tender desires
Crisp apples gleam in the orchard light
And owls awaken to sing through the night
The earth now rests in a slower song
The season knows where hearts belong
In fields of bronze and skies of grey
Autumn invites us to linger and stay
JH
I am a voice that listens,
a heart that leans forward,
a soft light in the corner of the room.
I’m not the door that slams,
not the echo of anger
that bruises the air.
I am a hand reaching out,
a thread tying strangers
to the same bright sky.
I’m not the scissors of cruelty,
not the knife of silence
that cuts connection in two.
I am curiosity,
the spark that asks why
and keeps asking.
I’m not the wall that blocks,
not the heavy lock
on imagination’s gate.
I am a messy, learning. human
a traveller carrying both shadows and suns.
I’m not perfect,
but I’m not done,
and I won’t be done
until love has the final word.
JH
There’s a moment in the hush between heartbeats,
When holding on becomes heavier than hope
and in that silence,
you learn the art of release.
You untie the knots you tied in stormy weather,
loosen your grip on ghosts in the mirror,
and find that your hands
though empty
are free.
The past does not apologise,
nor promise not to sting.
But you,
gentle and fierce,
choose peace over proof,
flight over fear.
You are not the branch that broke,
you are the wind that moved on.
Not the anchor rusting below,
but the tide that still sings to the moon.
So let go,
not in weakness
but in wild, sacred strength.
Let go like dusk lets go of the sun,
trusting it will rise again.
JH
They called you names like broken glass,
Threw words like stones, each meant to pass
Their shadows onto you, but dear,
You’re forged of light, not born of fear.
They saw your quiet, called it weak,
But silence roars when kind hearts speak.
They mocked the way you danced alone
But stars don’t ask for praise to shine.
You are the storm they couldn’t tame,
The ember they refused to name,
The poem scribbled in the night
By hands that dream in black and white.
Unwanted? No. You’re carved from grace
A universe inside your face.
Each scar, a tale of battles braved,
Each bruise, a flag for what you’ve saved.
The bullies bark because they break
They see your joy, and theirs is fake.
But you, sweet soul, you rise and rise
With every tear, you claim the skies.
So lift your head. You’re not alone.
This world is yours. This heart’s your home.
No cruel word can dim your worth
You are the fire that warms the earth.
JH
We build with hands, we dream with hearts,
We stitch together broken parts.
In every soul, a spark, a flame
A whispered song, a sacred name.
We laugh, we weep, we mend, we try,
We plant our hope beneath the sky.
And in each gaze, a world begins
A million losses, a thousand wins.
If we but look, just still and true
We’d see the light in me, in you.
For humankind, in all its grace,
Is stardust walking, face to face.
JH
A shadow creeps where light once lay,
A poison seeps into the day.
Once hands were clasped in human grace,
Now fear divides and scars replace.
The echoes of the past return,
Old lessons are taught, yet none we learn.
They build their walls, they mark their lines,
With hollow words and hollow spines.
And watch as justice bends and falls.
They paint their hatred in disguise,
Yet we see through their veiled replies.
The colour fades from hopeful dreams,
Replaced by cold and broken schemes.
A love once free is bound in chains,
As tyranny reclaims its reigns.
But still, we rise; we will not bow,
Not then, not ever—not now.
For love will burn through the darkest night,
And truth will stand, and truth will fight.
So let them shout, let them conspire,
We’ll fan the flames, ignite the fire.
For though they try to make us small,
Love and justice rise for all.
JH
Upon the field where dark and light contend,
The good stands tall with honor shining bright.
Yet shadows creep where wicked hearts descend,
Their whispers laced with promises of night.
The noble soul, though burdened, does not yield,
For truth and kindness forge a mighty blade.
While evil seeks to poison every field,
Its schemes dissolve when love will not degrade.
Though battles rage and tempests tear the sky,
The dawn will chase the blackest night away.
For even when the purest hearts must cry,
Their light remains, untouched by dark’s decay.
Thus good endures, though evil sways the land,
For justice lives where steadfast warriors stand.
JH
A shadow creeps where light once lay,
A poison seeps into the day.
Once hands were clasped in human grace,
Now fear divides and scars replace.
The echoes of the past return,
Old lessons are taught, yet none we learn.
They build their walls, they mark their lines,
With hollow words and hollow spines.
And watch as justice bends and falls.
They paint their hatred in disguise,
Yet we see through their veiled replies.
The colour fades from hopeful dreams,
Replaced by cold and broken schemes.
A love once free is bound in chains,
As tyranny reclaims its reigns.
But still, we rise; we will not bow,
Not then, not ever—not now.
For love will burn through the darkest night,
And truth will stand, and truth will fight.
So let them shout, let them conspire,
We’ll fan the flames, ignite the fire.
For though they try to make us small,
Love and justice rise for all.
JH
Art By Julan
Though faces vary, features shift and sway,
Our hues like petals on a flowered hill,
Each soul unique, a spark in life’s ballet,
Yet bound by threads no time nor space can still.
The rivers of our thoughts may course apart,
Through lands of joy, of sorrow, peace, and strife,
Yet all streams share the ocean of the heart,
A tide that sings the symphony of life.
From farthest shores to close and tender ground,
We walk as kin beneath the same vast skies.
Our laughter, tears, in every tongue resound;
One truth persists where all illusion lies.
For we, diverse as stars in heaven’s span,
Are one in this: the miracle of man.
JH
Beneath the frost, the earth begins to stir,
A whispered promise runs through root and tree.
The snowdrops bow, as robins softly whir,
And streams, once still, rush laughing to be free.
The dawn grows brighter, gilded rays unfold,
To kiss the buds that dream of April’s light.
In every branch, the tender green takes hold,
Dispelling winter’s long and silent night.
The air is sweet with scents of waking blooms,
As violets shyly peek through mossy beds.
The crocus paints the fields in vibrant plumes,
While sunlit breezes warm the river’s threads.
Oh, spring, you rouse the world from slumber deep,
A tender call that stirs the earth to leap.
JH
Julan62 