I love autumn. (This is NOT a poem, just a list - though I guess a list can be a poem...)
crisp cool mornings
sunny still days
the first dew on the grass
the last of the edible summer garden
and the promise of winter produce to come
leaf turn fall and crunch
the first fire...
and the next..
As a child I loved harvest festival at church. The aisles lined with magnificent pumpkins, carrots, silver beet, potatoes ... the bounty of people's gardens. Do churches still celebrate harvest festival in this way I wonder?