RIDING ON THE HARVEST MOON

The days are growing shorter
and cold weather is coming soon
as autumn arrives in gala dress
riding on the harvest moon.

The harvest moon, pale amber orb
in the late September sky
smiles down on a bountiful earth
and bids summertime good-bye.
The oaks all wear carnelian crowns
in a forest gowned red and gold
where crickets chant by the moonlight
about the time of frost and cold.

Fields and orchards yield plenty now,
days still warmed by a gentler sun;
Now is the time to gather in
for soon ice and snow will come
and sooner will be the days of sticks,
fields, once gold, soon turn to dun.
Wild flocks are singing their farewells.
We’ll soon hear the last song of the loon.
The geese will soon be flying south
across the harvest moon.

It is the season of the Harvest Moon,
that pale amber orb of light
smiling down on a bountiful earth
on these late September nights.
Now is the time to gather in.
The fields and forest are ripe
and abundant now for harvest;
The apples are red, the pumpkins gold…
And the harvest moon is in the sky
and the nights are growing cold.

The days are growing shorter.
Winter’s night is coming soon.
Autumn has come in gala dress
riding on the harvest moon…
And she is chanting out her warning
upon the autumn breeze
as she twirls and dances for awhile
among the falling autumn leaves.

Annette Bromley