Sunday, October 03, 2010

Sunday Morning Peace

A Vagabond Song

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood--
Touch of manner, hint of mood, and my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time,
The scarlet of the maples can shake me
Like a cry of bugles going by.

And my lonely spirit thrills
to see the frosty asters like smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October
sets the gypsy blood astir.

We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
--Bliss Carman

This poem explains why I love traveling so much. Smile.


Linda Glaz said...

My favorite time of year. When nature does what man can't possibly do by landscaping the world in beauty. I love the fall.

Jeanette Levellie said...

Wow. What a great photo, and poem. Thanks for sharing. I love autumn, too, especially now that we live where there are REAL seasons.


Patti Lacy said...

I love the line about the lonely spirit thrills.

Right there with ya!

Caroline said...

Yes, girl friends! You are poets. :) Beautiful autumn!

Break Time!

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