Grand Finale
The grand finale of nature is come;
the forests with color blaze.
Summer has chosen her brilliant gown
to wear through autumn's blue haze.
Some might say she has gone too far
wearing these gaudy shades;
ah, but summer knows icy winds soon blow--
all the color will quickly fade.
Go! Dress yourself, fair earth I love,
with scarlet, orange and gold;
soon puffed snow quilts will blanket your face,
summer's flowers lie dormant and cold.
I miss you those long winter nights,
your flirtatious, beautiful wiles;
one thought brightens blank, colorless hours:
I am happy you go out with style.
Copyright, 1987
Faye Lanham Gibson
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