Friday, October 1, 2010


by LaVerne P. Larson

The fields are heaped with harvest
As October comes our way,
With the woods and fields aflame
In a colorful display.

Each tree and brush and hill
Is splashed with gold and red,
And the sun descends quite early,
Glad to go to bed.

The purple mist of twilight
Drifting over all,
Is a silent benedicction
God sent us to recall.

His many wondrous blessings
Through each season of the year,
Are sent to bring us happiness
And the knowledge He is near.

Cornstalks are stacked like tepees
Of the very long ago,
Bringing back to mind and heart
The Indian fires' glow.

Pumpkins and a harvest moon
Add to the magic spell
As autumn weaves a fairyland
Over the field and wood and dell.

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