Work Text:
AUTUMN GLORY
By Amy Thompson
When I arrive, I'm dressed in gold,
I'm autumn, and I come with gifts.
The beauty that you will behold,
A marvel of the mellow mists.
The fruit has ripened on the bough
And you will see the harvest now.
What you have sown, so will you reap,
My basket's laden to the brim,
And all my glories you may keep
Like gems that glow and never dim.
The squirrels fill their cozy nests
With nuts to eat while nature rests.
While I turn orange leaves to gold
Preparing trees for winter sleep
There is no beauty I withhold
From redbreasts to the mountain sheep.
While falling leaves swirl 'round your head,
You can on paths of color tread.
I bring you Indian summer, too,
You'll see the twitt'ring swallows fly
And you will feel the warmth you knew.
While geese are bidding you goodbye.
Still, I arrive on silent feet,
I'm born to make a quick retreat.
Where are the summer songs you knew?
When lovers met in courtship sweet?
Now you will hear my music, too,
Whilst harvesting my golden wheat.
For every season has its time,
And now I'm at my glorious prime.
-The End-
© 2009 Amy Thompson