Song for October
Now singing colors chord their trumpet tones,
And maples make bright music up the hill,
The brook runs amber over polished stones,
The pond is deeper than the sky, and still.
Come the late wagons rumbling down the lane,
Freighted with pumpkins, cabbages, and corn,
Wheeling the dust into a golden rain,
Leaving behind the ravished fields forlorn.
Sweet summer is again a memory,
And lyric April a lost fairy story,
This is the season of the singing tree,
The winding horn of Autumn's ambient glory.
Only my love for you with Autumn glows
Yet keeps the pattern of the budding rose.
Pg. 248 "The Book of Stillmeadow" Gladys Taber