Here is another poem from my Grandma’s scrapbooks that I illustrated with pictures I have taken.

October

October! October!

There’s magic in the name —-

A clear sky, a blue sky,

And sunsets all aflame.

October! October!

It’s harvest time again;

The high corn, the low corn,

Is gathered in the bin.

October! October!

The birds sing with swelled throats;

A long song, a last song,

Of tender parting notes.

October! October!

The hills are all aglow

With red leaves, with gold leaves,

That dance when soft winds blow.

October! October!

I love you more each year;

Your warm days, your soft days,

To me they are most dear.

D. Maitland Bushby

Steven