A Fall Rite Poem

Crisp and cool is the deepening night
Yet still soft and sweet is the morning dew
Blood red berries drip from old green yew
Chilly winds blowing in a sky still bright

Red and yellow and bronze and brown
Fields and forests are no longer greening
The land prepares for its great sleeping
Drowsy trees wait for last leaf to fall down

The good earth bursts with fruit and life
Shining apples, heavy vines and golden corn
The last birds sing farewell to a frosty morn
With ritual and rite, shovel, sickle and knife

We all play a part in the great wheel of life

~~ Juniper ~~