October Poem by Mary Champion

Mid-Autumn, crowning glory of the year,
rivalled only by the vivid blooms of spring
that break the dismal, cruel reign of winter
with all the hope and promise that they bring.
The day may dawn with shroud of damp grey mist,
but, as the bright October sun burns through,
all Nature smiles to be so warmly kissed -
rich gold and burnished russet blaze anew.
The harvest has been safely gathered in
from orchard fruits to ripened corn and grain.
The seasons' cycle never faltering,
and pledging 'all that falls shall rise again.'
The Spring will come once more, with due accord,
pulsating, brimming life will be restored.