Autumn

Splash of scarlet, splash of gold,
Mornings touched with autumn's cold,
Weary fields beneath the sun
Resting with their labor done.
Scythe and sickle put away.
Night is longer now than day.

Later now the sun to rise.
Gone are birds and butterflies.
Just a few brave blossoms stay,
Relicts of their kindred gay
Still with courage carrying on
'Till their strength is wholly gone.

Neither field nor forest taints
Nature's purpose with complaints.
Chilled by frost unto the heart
Silently the flowers depart.
Stand the trees, like warriors bold
Dressed in scarlet and in gold.

Nothing sad or tearful here
At the twilight of the year.
These October mornings glow
Just as if they seem to know
Past all doubt and questioning
Life is an eternal thing.

— Edgar A. Guest
From the book "Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest", 1934

Photo by Dan Hardison
Blue Ridge Parkway, Western North Carolina

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The Gentle Gardener

I'd like to leave but daffodils

to mark my little way,

To leave but tulips red and white

behind me as I stray;

I'd like to pass away from earth

and feel I'd left behind

But roses and forget-me-nots

for all who come to find.

I'd like to sow the barren spots

with all the flowers of earth,

To leave a path where those who come

should find but gentle mirth;

And when at last I'm called upon

to join the heavenly throng

I'd like to feel along my way

I'd left no sign of wrong.

And yet the cares are many

and the hours of toil are few;

There is not time enough on earth

for all I'd like to do;

But, having lived and having toiled,

I'd like the world to find

Some little touch of beauty

that my soul had left behind.

— Edgar A. Guest
From the book "Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest", 1934

Photo by Dan Hardison
Biltmore House Gardens, Asheville, North Carolina

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