Season of mists and squashed crab apples,
Shortened days and threatened cold,
Harvest time in ancient chapels.
Fallen leaves with shades of red,
Trees soon bare against the sky,
Early frost may spring instead.
Berries bloom and bring some brightness
To the hedges and the gardens,
Gladden hearts with such awareness
Of the time of fruitful labour,
Wrought by those whose task is this:
Bring in the bounty of the grower.
Fires to light, more warmth is needed,
Clothes are thicker ‘gainst the frost,
Winter’s coming, be not misled.
Thanks for summer, now delight in
Autumn’s fancies and the firelight
Now among us for the season.