Email Poem

Your IP Address: 162.159.114.57

From Email:	Required Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:	Email Address Not Valid. Required
Subject	Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	Oh, soon the forests all will boast A crown of red and gold; A purple haze will circle round The mountains dim and old; Afar the hills, now green and fair, Their sombre robes will wear; A mist-like veil will dim the sun And linger on the air. Already seems the earth half sad The summer-child is dead; And who can tell the dreams gone by, The tales of life unsaid? September is a glowing time; A month of happy hours; Yet in its crimson heart lies hid The frost that kills the flowers. Life, too, may feel the glory near And wear its crown of gold; Yet are the snows not nearest then? Are hearts not growing old? September is the prime of life, The glory of the year; Yet when the leaves begin to fall The winter must be near.
	Type the characters you see in the picture Required

Member Area