Autumn
When summer flowers are gone and autumn embers
Burst forth in splendor with a golden glow,
Oh, I am happy in the joy of living
When pensive autumn makes her gorgeous bow.

The air is crisp; the maple trees are yellow;
Their trunks are storing sugar sweet and good.
The squirrels and other tiny woodland creatures
Have found a place to hoard their winter's food.

The trees are dropping apples in the orchard;
The moon's a golden lantern up above.
And everywhere we look we see reflected
The goodness of our gracious God of love.

Myrtle Leora Nelson