Wednesday, March 22

Oh Autumn


Oh Autumn, sweet mistress of the rain
I feel thy gentle touch upon my face
The delicate brush of wind,
A lightly scented perfume
On the fog that lies like a blanket on the trees

Oh Autumn, bittersweet is thy name
Bearing love I cannot satiate
The promise of comfort within
A golden arbor in a wooded glen
Dark and rich with color in its olden age

Oh Autumn, give to me thy rest
as the setting sun falls below the earth
I seek the solace of a quiet winter
The warmth of a genial fire
And the blessed comfort of the ones I love 


Comments are closed.