Wild geese chase dramatic skies * Of orange and blue clouds drifting by, * As softened sun casts gentle glow * On amber-colored earth below. * They herald change of mood and land * From carpet green to brown and tan. * The dusky smell of mulching ground * Grants fragrance where no flowers are found. * Amid the sound of skittering leaves * Tripping and turning on chilly breeze, * The trees show introspective ways * And lose their leaves for harsher days. * Their cycle done, their task complete, * They may now rest in silent sleep. * Withdrawing inward, life is saved, * While on the outside bright displays * Of crowded colors of fiery blaze * Melt in moonlight's harvest haze. * Crispy cold are nights and days * That take the breath away. * Other seasons fail to show * God's glory in such earthly tones, * And heaven's lanes are lined, we're told, * With rarest gems and autumn's gold.
~Poem by Sheila Gagen ~Photo by audrey