September Poems

Thirty Days
- Anonymous (there are a number of variations of this)

Thirty days hath September
April, June and November
All the rest have thirty-one
Excepting February alone
Which only has but twenty-eight days clear
And twenty-nine in each leap year.



Shine On, Shine On Harvest Moon (excerpt from the song)
- lyrics by Nora Bayes and Jack Norworth (1903)

Oh, Shine on, shine on, harvest moon
Up in the sky;
I ain't had no lovin'
Since April, January, June or July.
Snow time ain't no time
To stay outdoors and spoon.
So shine on, shine on, harvest moon,
For me and my gal.



Autumn Leaves (excerpt from the song)
- lyrics by Johnny Mercer and Jacques Prévert.  

"The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sun-burned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall."






September Rain
- Michael P. Garofalo

"Rain, rain, welcome back,
We've missed your song,
Your splatter and smack
On our dusty brown clay, dry so long.
Since last May we've not had a drop,
From grey-black clouds swriling by,
Or smelled wet earth, or stepped in muddy slop,
Or listened to thunder from the sky."



September Midnights
-  Sarah Teasdale

Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.
The grasshopper's horn, and far-off, high in the maples,
The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence
Under a moon waning and worn, broken,
Tired with summer.



Blackberry Eating  
- Gallway Kinnell

"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."


www.egreenway.com/months/monsep.htm