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