Fragrant Quote for September 10thth, 2012 from INDIAN SUMMER by May Phillips Tatro

Credit for Indian Summmer Image



INDIAN SUMMER by May Phillips Tatro

Oh! the mellow, golden days,
Running o'er with smoky haze,
Filtered through with sunshine patches and
where star-beams throw their rays;
Fragrance of a June long past Over all its spell has cast,
And the cloud-ships sail the azure with their
moon-tipped spars and mast.

Oh! the mellow, golden hours,
Filled with fragrance of dead flowers,
Drifting upward from the meadow wet with
pattering autumn showers;
Interlaced with leaves and vine,
Mingling spots of shade and shine,
And the sumac fruitage gleaming red as sparkling jets of wine.

Oh! the fluttering wings that go,
Dipping upward, high and low,
Southward, where the breath of winter swings
the roses to and fro;
A late bird pipes forth a cheer,
Mullen stalks stand brown and sear,
Edging round this strange and dreamy, half
pathetic time of year.

Oh! the mellow, golden days,
Running o'er with smoky haze,
Filtered through with sunshine patches, and
where star-beams throw their rays;
Catching echoes all achime
From mid-summer's perfect rhyme,
Ho! for all the gladness floating through the
Indian summer time.