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Custom
Poetry
For All Occasions
About Places
AUTUMN IN NEW ENGLAND
Would it be autumn in New England
If a chill didn’t sweep the day?
Or if purple, red and amber mums
Were not in full display?
Would October be remembered
If the maple, spruce and oak
Were not garnished by the Hand that wove
Their multi-colored cloak?
Would the day bestow such glory
Without wine-red berry bogs
Or if warm abodes didn’t harbor
Stacked up cords of winter logs?
Would the season be as welcome
To a soul in deep dismay
If the mist didn’t rise so sweetly
From the fringe of Buzzard’s Bay?
I have found a peace unspoiled
In the charm of old Cape Cod
As I walk the streets of Falmouth
Painted by the hand of God
OH, IT’S SO AMISH HERE!
(Upon moving to a small town in
Pennsylvania)
Oh, it’s so Amish here
Among the rolling fields of yellow corn
Each dawn is like an infant child
So clean and fragrant, freshly born
Delight is in a cantaloupe
Picked ripe and plump and nicely sweet
And bounty fills a wooden bin
With what the Lord provides to eat
Tranquility is in a stream
That bubbles forth from crystal springs
My peace is in the earth and sky
And music’s what the swallow sings
I found a place to heal my heart
That once was shattered, frail and torn
Oh, it’s so Amish here
Among the rolling fields of yellow corn
CAPE COD FAREWELL
I must say a goodbye To the shores of
Cape Cod
Molded of sand by the fingers of God
Lovely old towns that have always remained
Unaltered, untouched by the currents of change
House of gray shingles and shutters of
red
Heard the sad tales that were New England bred
Of long ago schooners that skimmed over waves
Now carved onto scrimshaw and dug into graves
Storms of confusion and torrents of
rain
Pulsed through the air and a fisherman’s vein
Now they are changing the smile on my face
To a solemn expression that time can’t erase
Perhaps it is true that my sorrow could
end
On the shores of Cape Cod in the arms of a friend
Will I ever return? Only seasons will tell
But today, dear Cape Cod, I must bid you farewell
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