September

Years ago when I was in grade school, we had to memorize the poem September by Helen Hunt Jackson.  I loved memorizing poetry and, all these years later I still remember most of those poems that we memorized.  Fall has always been my favorite season of the year, I was married in the fall.  I've lived all my life in Pennsylvania where fall nights turn chilly and the daytime air is crisp.  Aromas of fall, those of apples and pumpkins are so beloved in our house that we burn candles to keep those smells in the house even when we're not baking.  As I sat on the deck this afternoon, I thought of those words of Helen Hunt Jackson.  Our apple trees are holding fruit, "fish" have formed in the milkweed pods, and the goldenrod is definitely yellow.  I rejoice in the colors, sounds and smells of fall, and I almost look forward to the soups of winter.  I hope you also smile and think lovingly of fall as you read this excerpt from one of my favorite poems.

September

by Helen Hunt Jackson

The goldenrod is yellow

The corn is turning brown.

The trees in apple orchards

With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes

Are curling in the sun.

In dusty pods, the milkweed

Its hidden silk has spun.

By dewy lanes at morning

the grapes' sweet odors rise.

At noon the roads all flutter

With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens,

September days are here.

With summer's best of weather

And autumn's best of cheer