| I saw it drop from up so high Dancing against the autumn sky; Graceful as it floated down, Sighing when it touched the ground. All summer it waved mid the trees, Creating a ballet with every breeze. Its points collected drops of rain; The sun shone through its tiny veins. A noble life, through brief and sweet, Will end as a cushion for my feet. A messenger from tree so tall Sent to tell me it is fall. --Mary D. Adams |
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LATE AUTUMN Autumn has come again. The time each year When yellow leaves are falling. Johnson grass Has gone to seed, but let no farmer hear Me praise its graceful scepters where it crowds The edges of the fences. And the skies Are very, very blue while soft white clouds Pile high and billowy. Large butterflies Flit hurriedly, uncertain where to go. The royal colours of the ironweed And goldenrod are fading. All aglow Are sunsets. On the dogwood trees the seed Are bright red clusters. It has come again -- The season that is whispering "Amen." --Isla Paschal Richardson |
| LATE FALL Leave the valley to her dreaming Wrapped in gold October haze With her harvest yield around her As the fires of autumn blaze. Let the curve of hills enfold her And the fragrant woodsmoke rise Like our praise for peace and plenty To the blue October skies. --Alice Mackenzie Swaim |
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| SHOCKS OF GRAIN When seasons of the year have come To harvesttime again, I eagerly look forward to The farmers' shocks of grain. A shock of grain is made of sheaves Where one leans to the other; And sheaf on sheaf, they lend support To strengthen one another. A shock of grain is molded by A farmer's toiling hands, Is made of love and thankfulness, Is product of his land. And so each shock is meaningful, A form of harvest prayer That stands upright to priase the Lord For His abundance there. --Craig E. Sathoff |
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| Elizabeth J. Holt |
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