Autumn

As I traveled from New York this week, I noticed the changing of leaves.  It’s coming upon my favorite time of the year, and who better describes it than Emily Dickinson; in her own words.

Have a great week!

Autumn

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.

A Touch of Emily…Again

I hope you all had a good week.  It’s becoming my favorite part of the year: Autumn.  Seeing leaves flutter to the ground or smelling smoke during a walk are great comforts to me.  Today, I stumbled upon a poem by, guess who?  Emily Dickinson.  I felt compelled to share and hope you enjoy.  Wishing all a good weekend!

Besides the Autumn poets sing

Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze—

A few incisive Mornings—
A few Ascetic Eves—
Gone—Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod"—
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."

Still, is the bustle in the Brook—
Sealed are the spicy valves—
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves—

Perhaps a squirrel may remain—
My sentiments to share—
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind—
Thy windy will to bear!