Autumn

Autumn steals the summer months so now in loneliness I shut my doors and grieve, Rain cleans the dust from a warm summer and as some flowers droop they say goodbye, With the rain refreshing all, the smell and the perfumed dying plants turn into just sticks, The air has rested for weeks now awakes and shake trees and my heavy wooden doors. The shadows grow longer, but the day grows shorter, with a coolness of moisture, Veils of clouds rush so much faster the showers are short bursts with sharp hail, Along the sky are trailed clouds, with their gossamer drapery amid intense azure, The sun rises once more so brilliant for these days, the calmest most impressive beauty. Time passes, I close and lock my windows and pull back on the great oak shutters, Then come the rains, long and deluging amid late summer frosts, that damages corn, And when steady gushing rains, flood the meadows and fill the mead's, all is lost, Late autumn steals the bright suns, in loneliness I shut out all light and grieve.