by Grace Strickler Dawson
Ho! For the leaves that eddy down,
Crumpled yellow and withered brown…
Starting aloft to windy ways,
Telling the coming of bonfire days.
by Adelaide Crapsey
Listen . . .
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghost,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break free from the trees
"What's For Dinner?"
Leslie Newman, cookbook author
As the days grow short, some faces grow long.
But not mine.
Every autumn, when the wind turns cold and the darkness comes early,
I am suddenly happy.
It’s time to start making soup again.
Praise the LORD!
Psalm 147: 1-6 NIV
Praise the Lord from the heavens,
praise Him in the heights above.
Praise Him, all His angels,
praise Him, all His heavenly hosts.
Praise Him, sun and moon,
praise Him, all you shining stars.
Praise Him, you highest heavens
and you waters above the skies.
Let them praise the name of the LORD,
for He commanded and they were created.
He set them in place for ever and ever;
He gave a decree that will never pass away.