September Song
Green to burnished gold
the Fall we are told, is sad
but I love the Fall days
the misty haze.
Do not mourn summers end
I am a friend
I am not death, but sleep
I come to rest, not keep.
The babbling brook sings to me
you do not die, and like the tree
you sleep, and stir again in spring
oh the joy that God can bring.
