The goldenrod is yellow
The maple turning red
The lazy days of summer
Will all too soon have fled.

The roadside blue with chicory
With beauty seems to beckon.
And I respond most willingly
For summer's demise, I reckon.

The tall corn hung with ripening ears
Each rural road adorn
And gardens lush with summer's treats
Greet every passing morn.

The apple trees, with ruby fruit
And yellow, stand afield-
Their laden branches bending low
To promise ample yield.

Tall sumace grace the old fence rows
With plumes of red and gold,
While from the neighboring evergreens
The crows and bluejays scold.

The grapevines in their stately rows
Like close ranked soldiers on parade
And road stands with bright colored fruits
And vegetables arrayed.

The roses have a deeper hue
Than in the month of June
On every passing summer breeze
They waft their sweet perfume.

Scarce are the robins and the rest
Whose gone their southward ways
Leaving us to linger here
And face cold, wintry days.

Too oft we're faced with driving rains
From skies of sullen grey,
Give warning that the ice and snow
Will soon be on the way.

So when come warm, bright Autumn days
With sunshine all aglow
Leave all your dreary, mundane tasks
And come see Nature's show -