September

The goldenrod is yellow,
The corn is turning brown,
The trees in the apple orchard
With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun
In dusty pods, the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest
In every meadow nook
And asters by the brookside
Make asters in the brook.

In dewy lanes at morning
The grapes sweet odors rise
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens
September days are here
With summer's best of weather
And autumn's best of cheer.

Happy September 1, I miss you Mama!