Autumnal Breeze
Waft, oh waft, autumnal breeze,
Bring greyer skies and crimson trees,
The fields are weaved with golden sedge,
A carpet drawn toward winter’s edge.
October reigns, its thunders roll,
It quiets body, mind and soul,
And, for a while all troubles cease,
A somnolent and somber peace.
E’en though the day is warmer now,
The fallen leaves and barren bough,
Remind us still to gather in,
For soon the winter fires begin.
Peter Lowell Paulson
October 13, 2012
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