Paul Ray Poet Pastoral

At Last With Fall

What beauty comes at last with Fall
When golden hour is best of all -
Where Autumn’s light set trees aglow
With shimmering shades and bright yellow,
And where each backdrop’s reddish scene
Is sprinkled with some evergreen.

It seems to be a magic sign
When colors clash against the pine,
And temperatures begin to change
While verdant hillsides rearrange.

It’s when there’s splendor by a lake,
And when there’s piles of leaves to rake;
There’re pumpkin patches plain in view,
And frost that chills each morning dew. 

What beauty comes at last with Fall
When sunflowers grow up nice and tall,
And sway in fields where asters grow
With purple heads lined in a row -  
Where butterflies swim in the air,
And dance amongst the clover there.  

There’s wonder in a mountain scene
With quilt-like colors in between
The peaks, the ranges, and the sky 
Where downy cotton clouds drift by.

There’re crisp clean chills felt in each breeze
While gently fall the sun scorched leaves;
An amber tinge to morning’s haze, 
And maple leaves glow with a blaze. 

What beauty comes at last with Fall
As God repaints His earthen ball 
With touches made with red and gold?
It is a wonder to behold.
But though I’m no authority -
I know God did this all for me.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment