I'd like to die in September, <br />For die I eventually must, <br />When Connecticut's leaves, I remember, <br />Are beginning to turn into rust; <br />And Coronado's barrier island <br />Has battled her hurricanes all, <br />And our home was safe on the high land; <br />Yes, I'd like to go in the fall. <br />When the pecans are coming in season <br />By Chattahoochee's shore, <br />And these Islands, for God's love and reason, <br />Where the wind and the surf can both roar. <br />It's the month of my birth and my mother's, <br />It's the time I would joyfully go; <br />I can leave this old world to you others, <br />Free of pain, free of care, free of woe. <br />So, Dear God, if you're list'ning in Heaven, <br />One last blessing I ask of You now; <br />I thank You for all You have given, <br />And for all that I've left to endow. <br />Please let me die in September, <br />With blessings to all that I love, <br />And when this old body's an ember, <br />Let my soul be in Heaven above.<br /><br />John Bliven Morin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ipse-requie/
