It was a ceremony of Sparrows <br />Their Psalms sung on bare branches <br />Of Fall <br />Breaking, 'tis the dawn, through my frosty window <br />Opening to their crisp <br />Musical Call <br /> <br />The orange and gold, fallen leaves <br />Blow their way towards God <br />And The Aristocrat <br />Of the Robin-Red-Breast <br />Leaves his remanents <br />Upon, The New Fall Sod <br /> <br />The Pumpkins, they are ever ripening... <br />The Gourds and maze, adorn <br />Waving it's goodbye in the breeze <br />The End of Summer <br />With open arms, welcomed in <br />Autumns New Morn <br /> <br />The once, moist, glistening of dew <br />Counted on, during late summer days <br />Has become crystal-like <br />To Frosty <br />With each day, That Autumn Makes her way <br /> <br />The Equinox has now, come and gone <br />...When hours of light and dark equate <br />Making it ever <br />SO Official <br />That Autumn 'Tis Never Late<br /><br />Theodora (Theo) Onken<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/signs-of-fall/
