Wistful shades of light in orange and gold
Pouring out heaven’s great plans on still limbs
Breathing calm through the hills, like cherubims
Brushing souls with cascades of light untold
With Autumn’s twilight comes the early cold
Verses dance on soft skies like gentle hymns
Loitering o’er grey, wistful clouds, grief dims
Wrens and robins lift beaks, the air to scold
Old souls who love rustling woods, heed God’s voice
Listening for the calm of warm solace
Who lives in the song, moving through forests
O’er mountains, through the valleys, souls rejoice
With autumn’s outburst, splendor is flawless
Fall, juicy spice of gifted folklorists.
Categories:
folklorists, appreciation, autumn, god, nature,
Form: Italian Sonnet