Poems (White)/Autumn
For works with similar titles, see Autumn.
AUTUMN
Winter is whispering in the breeze
To gorgeous flowers and graceful trees,
Get ready, get ready, for Autumn gay
Is the time we have for Rally Day.
You must listen to all that I say.
See! Everyone's gathering up the hay.
Apples are falling, and grapes appear;
Summer is dying, for don't you hear
Her bitter sighing? She's tired to death
With so much work, she's out of her breath.
She does not want you, don't stick to her,
See! She's leaving you. Does it occur
That some one must care and comfort you?
I am the person, and that she knew.
If you don't listen to my first call,
I'll speak again, and that will be all.
Then I will come with thunder and storm;
If you don't mind me, I'll do you harm,
Though I come last of all of the year,
Come I with blast, if you will not hear.
I am your friend, if you'll only see
How rest to everyone will agree.
So heed to my kindness now, for it will be said
Must deal with you harshly; can't be led.
Come, little flowerets, and you, dainty leaves,
Drop from your stemlets, and from your trees.
Winter is whispering that you must rest.
Listen to him, and do what is best.
King Winter has force; he will soon show
Who is ruler, and who ought to know.
See, the birdies are flying away;
They have all heard what he has to say.
Go to bed sweetly, and don't you cry;
Summer's coming again, by and by.
Your poor little heads are drooping low,
Your friends are all dancing here below.
Why be so stubborn, holding so fast?
You're surely going, why be the last?
You'll miss the party, Rally Day too.
Why don't you listen to friends so true?
Then be determined, and all you'll gain
Is thunder, storm, and plenty of rain,
And down you'll drop to the edge of the bed,
Mourning the troubles for the life you've led.
To gorgeous flowers and graceful trees,
Get ready, get ready, for Autumn gay
Is the time we have for Rally Day.
You must listen to all that I say.
See! Everyone's gathering up the hay.
Apples are falling, and grapes appear;
Summer is dying, for don't you hear
Her bitter sighing? She's tired to death
With so much work, she's out of her breath.
She does not want you, don't stick to her,
See! She's leaving you. Does it occur
That some one must care and comfort you?
I am the person, and that she knew.
If you don't listen to my first call,
I'll speak again, and that will be all.
Then I will come with thunder and storm;
If you don't mind me, I'll do you harm,
Though I come last of all of the year,
Come I with blast, if you will not hear.
I am your friend, if you'll only see
How rest to everyone will agree.
So heed to my kindness now, for it will be said
Must deal with you harshly; can't be led.
Come, little flowerets, and you, dainty leaves,
Drop from your stemlets, and from your trees.
Winter is whispering that you must rest.
Listen to him, and do what is best.
King Winter has force; he will soon show
Who is ruler, and who ought to know.
See, the birdies are flying away;
They have all heard what he has to say.
Go to bed sweetly, and don't you cry;
Summer's coming again, by and by.
Your poor little heads are drooping low,
Your friends are all dancing here below.
Why be so stubborn, holding so fast?
You're surely going, why be the last?
You'll miss the party, Rally Day too.
Why don't you listen to friends so true?
Then be determined, and all you'll gain
Is thunder, storm, and plenty of rain,
And down you'll drop to the edge of the bed,
Mourning the troubles for the life you've led.