Autumn, O Autumn

Autumn, O Autumn, I have always loved you. Please forgive me if I've not told you so. From childhood, you have been most special. Back then, you signaled cessation from labor; Farm labor that was very hard, hot, and humid. Autumn, O Autumn. Is there another as Productive, quiet, and beautiful as you? Looking out all around, I see your beauty In many and variant ways; whether it's the leaves On the trees or the dust from the harvest of grain. Or a sea of soft picture-perfect white cotton in the fields. Autumn, O Autumn, you are indeed the great gatherer of The seed of sowers, promoter of festivity and celebration. Your voice shouts from the trees, the fields, the white Clouded skies. Not the shout of noise, but the sound of Anticipation, the joys and rewards of hard work and the 'Smile of God' upon your bountiful crops. Autumn, O Autumn, the sun pauses for your entry. I feel The tame in the atmosphere, the subduing of your presence. You have come with smiles and not frowns, with lots of goods To give to all and not take from any. Your God and mine have Deemed it so. We are grateful for your season and shall be Givers as you have given to us. 092222PS