"Each month of the year has its own beauty…
which was never seen before
and which shall never be seen again. "
Ralph Waldo Emerson
By Elece Hollis
Autumn's chilly nights come;
Cold calls for the woolen blankets
From the cabinets upstairs.
Spread atop the patchwork quilts
On the old farmhouse's beds
Woven of the warmth of summer sun.
Rose lights my kitchen windowsill,
Teems with stored up summer sunrises
And full of sunset's scarlet hues.
Rose, the brightest flower of fall
Collection of the year's brightest pieces
In one sensational satin swirl!