by Aileen Fisher
One of the nicest beds I know
isn't a bed of soft white snow,
isn't a bed of cool green grass
after the noisy mowers pass,
isn't a bed of yellow hay
making me itch for half a day -
but autumn leaves in a pile that high,
deep, and smelling like fall, and dry.
That's the bed where I like to lie
and watch the flutters of fall go by.
by Katherine Edelman
I walked through autumn woods today;
I cupped my hands along the way;
Great trees shook down rich coins of gold.
More than my two small hands could hold.
It's no wonder that this is a favorite season. This week's mild weather was such a pleasure. Cleaning out flowerbeds caked with leaves and thinning out overgrown or dead plants didn't seem like chores. And sharing a pretty fall day with a three-year-old is true bliss.