In dreams, I stroll through autumn’s golden halls
That rustle as the breezes frisk and wisp
And swiftly tripping make the leaves to twist,
To gently float, to fly and then to fall,
And crunch beneath my feet, a whispered psalm
To all things autumn, all things cool and crisp.
Oh! for the thrill, the ecstasy, the bliss
of fall. To all of this I’m drawn.
Alas, it’s just a wish, and now I’m left
Bereft of all. For leaves are brown and grass
Is yellow, parched from drought, the ground is cleft
In this dry land in Dixie, fall ore’ passed.
…. I gaze outside, poor nature seems laid bare.
…. I sigh, and wish for autumn – splendid, fair.