October – a poem by Byron Ruggles

Full now upon the yellow fields,

The mellow haze of autumn rests,

The harvest now it’s fullness yields,

And all the needs of man are blest.


‘Tis wonderful! October’s sun,

Makes paradise of noon,

And night, with all her stars as one,

Plays homage to the moon.


October is the artist gay,

Who turns the summers green to gold

With skillful touches free and bold

What pictures paints he, day by day.


By Byron Ruggles

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