Autumn Glory
By: Margaret Peterson
When leaves once budded in the spring
Turn to burnished gold
Or scarlet red or russet brown
In splendor to behold…
It’s then the world becomes for us
A magic place to stroll
Down winding little country lanes
That stirs our very soul.
Could autumn be a hint of Heaven
With streets of shining gold
And colors even fairer still
Than ours so bright and bold?
Perhaps God gives us autumn days
To lift our thoughts to Him
Who has the best in store for us
By contrast, fall is dim.
By: Margaret Peterson
When leaves once budded in the spring
Turn to burnished gold
Or scarlet red or russet brown
In splendor to behold…
It’s then the world becomes for us
A magic place to stroll
Down winding little country lanes
That stirs our very soul.
Could autumn be a hint of Heaven
With streets of shining gold
And colors even fairer still
Than ours so bright and bold?
Perhaps God gives us autumn days
To lift our thoughts to Him
Who has the best in store for us
By contrast, fall is dim.
