A Fall Song
Golden and red trees
Nod to the soft breeze,
As it whispers, "Winter is near;"
And the brown nuts fall
At the wind's loud call,
For this is the Fall of the year.
Good-by, sweet flowers!
Through bright Summer hours
You have filled our hearts with cheer
We shall miss you so,
And yet you must go,
For this is the Fall of the year.
Now the days grow cold,
As the year grows old,
And the meadows are brown and sere;
Brave robin redbreast
Has gone from his nest,
For this is the Fall of the year.
I do softly pray
At the close of the day,
That the little children, so dear,
May as purely grow
As the fleecy snow
That follows the Fall of the year.
by Ellen Robena Fields
This poem was assigned to Ram at school to memorize this month. I love it as much as I love fall, the smell, feel, the colors, the clothes (yes I said that, I love all those sweaters, scarfs and hats you can still wear without having to cover up every inch of skin) and the changes, as everything is dying but it is only getting ready to sleep through winter and wake up again in the spring. We are getting ready for the Winter Solstice.
xo,
estela
