September days are golden
Like the fields of wheat and corn
The crisp bright leaves of maple trees
The Guernsey calves Spring-born...
Like fields of black-eyed Susans
Bright meadows of Goldenrod
And ponds where daisies nod...
September days are picnics
The laughter fills the air
The last of summer's sun
Warms your heart and streaks your hair....
September nights are silver beams
That slip into your room
Catching moonbeams in your hand
Forgetting winter's gloom...
Watching as a skein of geese
Fly by moon's ghostly face..
Watching in that clear black sky
Bright stars in velvet space....
September nights are long and cool
You sleep 'neath blankets warm
'Til one morn you awaken
To the first of winter's storms....
(c) M. Linda Steffey 1988