Off yonder doth the mourn sun rise through the thickets;
His arrival has come for all to see;
Silvery white hair flowing majestically, kissing its
Eternal ends to the submissive earth and trees;
A princely coat of leather stretched far across the land
Glistening; is it not the most wondering thing?
Sir Summer o’er yonder confines in his warm recesses
Till there comes a time for him to reveal his might;
Tin instruments swell the ears with a merry band
By his hand,
His presence, a year long wait blesses
In the bellows of Autumn’s cornerstone, thou plots
For when you will lay conquest in man’s eye,
With air laden with the most fiendish thoughts;
Aviary beauties threatened that they must fly;
Bringing earth’s waters to an utter standstill,
Conspiring whether to engulf the spherical plane in snow,
Young grizzly takes shelter from thou icy fist;
Harvest leaves falling; ever green withers; why doth thy chill?
A natural façade, hiding what man doth not know;
Aware that sister spring awaits to revive and overthrow,
Waitest thou him alongside groundhog with the light prolong’st
Rosy cheeks flutter to his side; noses red
And eager’d buds open to his present
Fall knows they cherish now who is in his stead,
Dressing in fur which his cold heart found pleasant,
Skin fairing no fathomable stain;
Smile, worry not that you freeze? Art thou not nip’d?
Breath sweet chill that calms
Hands lift his coat, exposing dormant pin needles tipped;
Crimson and gold remains of the previous ruler be disdain,
Lest they be reminded of a conflicting reign;
Choking up the last of Autumn’s psalms.