Standing at woods edge this Autumn day
I see the fields last cutting of hay
Oh, I know that winter’s on its way
But isn’t this day sublime?
Yellows and oranges, reds and browns
Come tumbling, tumbling softly down
From trees that wore such regal crowns
And will be very bare in time
Grasses so golden, blown by the wind
Lofty clouds wrapped in rich blue skin
Ah, Autumn I hate to see you end
But isn’t today sublime ?
K.L. Dennie 2012
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