Early Autumn Landscape Poem by Mary Champion

Unmoving as a painted backcloth,
no hint of breeze disturbs the air.
Unruffled meadows ‘neath a tranquil sky -
a blue unclouded sky - like summer wore.
Through this passive scene, the river winds,
curling softly by the bank on which I stand;
whispering and chinking over its polished stones.
Cutting through the downs that swell and fold,
a road winds grey and silent,
marked out by red-gold-trees
whose leaves are slowly loosening their grip,
but still await the wind to set them free.
And on, beside the river's ragged fringe,
fallow fields relax, untouched by man.
Beyond a gently sloping rise,
where harvest has been gathered and brought home,
a ploughman carves his furrow-
prepares the ground for planting in the Spring.
The distant lowing of the cattle joins
the music of the river's flowing song,
while wheeling crows review the land below -
their shaggy nests still hid by dying leaves.
An autumn day when Earth prepares to face
the callous storms of winter's grim patrols-
rain and snow and harsh uncaring gales
that test the staying power of her soil.
But now, the remnants of her summer robes
still gladden any eye that stops to see.