After the very first
Long hot summer
That ever there was...
The gods reflected
And in joy created the Autumn
Every green leaf
Upon every tree
To golden yellows,
Vivid reds,
And burning oranges
The sweet and bitter apples
Upon each bough
Ripened for harvest
That any lone wanderer
Might stop and pluck one
To be refreshed
The cool nights became long
That lovers might gaze
Upon the clear autumn skies
Grapes would be harvested
And well turned into wine
That gods and folk
Might celebrate alike
And all of Nature danced
With the falling coloured leaf
As it pirouetted to Nature's bosom in delight
It was only after such celebration
That even the gods
For what is now Winter...

By: Greg Currie
September 26, 1995