September
by Helen Hunt Jackson
The goldenrod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusky pods the milkweed
It's hidden silk has spun.
The sedges flaunt their harvest
In every meadow-nook,
And asters by the brookside
Make asters in the brook.
From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather,
And autumn's best of cheer.
|
Lovely poem!
ReplyDelete