AUTUMN YEARS

AUTUMN YEARS

I do not know how she paints
the wooded slopes of green
to all the shades of red and gold,
although many years I’ve seen.

I only know she does it
in the autumn of each year
with a palette full of color,
Makes me glad I am still here.

As I walk through the forest
down the path by the stream,
it brings to me a feeling that
I’m walking in a dream.

The sun still warms the earth,
yet there’s a briskness in the air.
Everywhere you look you see
Mother Nature’s pictures there.

I do not know if I’ll be here
when her paint once more appears,
I only know I’ll thank the Lord
for all my autumn years.