Oh, Autumn, in gorgeous raiment,
What artist is the blame?
He has daubled his colors here and there,
In one great glory of color and prayer,
Till the woods are all aflame.
There are browns and deepest crimsons,
Orange and sunny tans,
Scarlet and dim old yellows,
Done by a Master’s hand,
It is spread for eyes to feast on,
And it helps to understand.
Katherine Carey-Place 1878-1934
Copyright Roy Richard