Whisper Sweet Harvest Moon

Whisper sweet harvest moon Cradle me in cooler climes Softly show me how willingly the tree let's Its leaves turn from green to gold The tree does not complain of age and change The Leaves do not seek to be what they were They gently grace into reds and yellows then browns The grasses are dressing in green again like a last glorious dance The kind pansies are resurrecting and mums are starting to burst the sky is sometimes a stubborn grey but then brilliant blue New England fall has arrived Like a wagon filled to the brim hosting harvest parties Encouraging long walks in crunchy leaves down long winding tree-covered paths out by cranberry bogs cresting in reds and out on long boardwalks that stretch in woody perfection to the sea The wild parties of summer drunkenness have departed the shores The embers of clam bakes and firecrackers are finally at rest The streets are passable and the merchants are sleeping in late and only open when they want to be The rains finally came and even the dogs are quiet now Heaven is on Earth here now Cape Cod in September