Poems from the yellow notebook: Autumn version

As promised, I'm going to subject you all to a foray into my 15-year old mind via some poems I wrote back then. Today seemed like a good day to do it because it's a crisp, gorgeous first day of October.

A whisper of the winter

Lingers in the air,

But only for a moment

For we are not quite there.

But then the whisper widens

Into a sound of chill

Its speaking scares the sun away

Yet summer stays here still.

I think this was probably supposed to have more stanzas where it got progressively colder, But I'm okay leaving it where it's at. We don't need to think about cold yet.

And, while we're at it . . . here's one more autumn poem that you might not know. I found it in the 1836 LDS hymnbook, and I'm not sure who wrote it. Maybe Emma Smith herself?

The sun that declines in the far western sky,

Has roll'd o'er our heads till the summer's gone by;

And hush'd are the notes of the warblers of spring

That in the green bow'r did exultingly sing.

The changes of autumn already appear;

A harvest of plenty has crown'd the glad year;

While soft smiling zephyrs, our fancies to please,

Bring odors of joy from the laden fruit trees.

As the summer of youth passes swiftly along,

And silvery locks soon our temples adorn:

So the fair smiling landscape and flowery lawn,

Though lost is their beauty-- their glory has come:

O when the sweet summer of life shall have fled,

Her joys and her sorrows entomb'd with the dead,

Then may we by faith like good Enoch arise,

And be crown'd with the just in the midst of the skies.

Descend with the Savior in glory profound,

And reign in perfection when satan is bound;

When love and sweet union together shall blend,

And peace, gentle peace, like a river extend.

Well, I guess it's not totally about autumn. But it's still nice.