When Mr. McNealy's tractor backs up busy traffic,
And the wheat fields have turned a golden brown,
Then graceful geese are seen flying overhead,
As produce markets appear all over town
And spring flowers begin yielding seed,
When Rancher Bob puts up the winter's feed,
And First Baptist plans the annual festival,
Then dying leaves dry and begin to fall.
When the nights turn cool,
And warm air bids adieu,
Autumn must be close at hand!
When tourists schedule to see the colors,
And Sam Tucker puts on long sleeves,
Then Anne's pink sweater is dry-cleaned,
As farmers prepare to bring in the sheaves;
And the sound of the lawn mower decreases,
When sea lovers make final trips to beaches;
And the Fair finally makes its way to town,
Then summer advertisements come down.
When the nights turn cool,
And warm air bids adieu,
Autumn must be close at hand!
© Loyd C. Taylor
Hello Loyd! Nice to see you here and loved your autumn poem. I didn't have to look outside at our first frost of the season to feel autumn. A '10! ' my friend. Warm Wishes, Marilyn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this poem, Loyd. Autumn is my favorite season. With the weather so hot as it is right now, this poem is very refreshing. Very nice indeed my friend. Richard