My eyes viewed the sea
of Autumn that lay before us,
and I pondered the hearts
of the first Pilgrims. Surely,
they must have stopped
all their busies and chatter,
their new adventures and clatter,
to give thanks for safety and
magnificence of Autumn’s attire.
The crimson, golden glistening
of the Cottonwoods and Aspens
glow and shimmer
their skirts of leaves
before their last hurrah
and Winter’s barren slumber.
The golds, the reds, the yellows
as diamonds;
wave this time of year,
as beautiful then, as now.
And the harvest,
so delicious;
as the season’s beauty.
Beauty all around
for all eyes to see, this majesty.
Beauty all around
as much as the sand upon the sea.
What perfect peace,
this Autumnal harmony.
And we give thanks
upon America’s banks.
Carol D. Meeks
