September Song-part one

Eccles.3:11He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. Happy first September Saturday for this year! I've had a very happy beginning...Green lights all the way, BOTH WAYS through town on an early grocery-dash.Feeling happy for the man piling groceries in the back seat of his pickupbetween Child and Dog.Stopping a few times on the way home,first to admire an apple orchard with the appeal of propped laddersthen to delight in the pure abandon of two horses dashing round and roundtheir green pasture! Where golden rod and wild asters collaborate to steal our breath... Where beneath heaven's denim-deeps September’s soulful beauty splaysIn orchards bent with apple red,... in pastures green where horses prance... In the cool of the morning where the lawn glimmers with gilt of dewAnd coffee-steam hangs on the air and front porch chair dons quilt or two... And the corn field is like a wall of whispers, lush, before the frost... Where golden rod and wild asters collaborate to steal our breathWhere summer’s day hastens its gait toward birth’s sure ordinance; deathWhere mellow yellow stubble-sweeps host perpetual cricket laysWhere beneath heaven's denim-deeps September’s soulful beauty splaysIn orchards bent with apple red, in pastures green where horses pranceIn the wild-flower-filled creek-bed, in the garden’s extravaganceIn the cool of the morning where the lawn glimmers with gilt of dewAnd coffee-steam hangs on the air and front porch chair dons quilt or twoAnd the corn field is like a wall of whispers, lush, before the frostTurns banter brittle; where the call of Autumn stirs a sense of lossWhere eventide, awash with amber ambience runs delight wildIn spite of loath relinquishments, of season-songs Bygone-beguiledBy skylines, dusky like a plum, purple-sweet with mist and dust-kissWhere scarlet striate starts to strum the first few bars of Autumn BlissLike a drum roll through woodland tress, like an arpeggio of leafSeptember’s simple happiness fills summer hearts with sweet reliefAnd assurance of morrows swelled like buds, primed and waiting to burstWith beauty never yet beheld; while September plays preludes first © Janet Martin Where scarlet striate starts to strum the first few bars of Autumn BlissLike a drum roll through woodland tress, like an arpeggio of leaf...