Autumn, by Hope Hanson

The butterfly flutters along,

The wren trills its bright song,

And deep in the wooded valley of fall

You hear the deep-throated bullfrogs call.

The trees whisper and rustle

And the raindrops drip in a puddle

And the windy breeze of September days

When the sun shines down with gentle, warm rays

And reaches the earth to brush

The ground with a hush

Of cool autumn days that make the way clear

For the winter and snow that is drawing so near.

The crickets chirp their last notes,

And the squirrels and the chipmunks devote

The last of their strength to save and to store

The fruit of trees from the soft forest floor.

And looking around you discover

The trees all around turning colors,

And drifting so slowly to carpet the earth,

The leaves dance along with unbridled mirth.

Here is a world full of life

Far from all cities and strife

Just open your eyes and listen, my friend,

To God’s nature unfolding toward Fall’s final end.