Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Turning Brown

The goldenrod is yellow

The corn is turning brown

The trees in apple orchard

are bending to the ground...

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Belinda said...

You can't just stop a poem like that! It feels as though there must be more. I loved it.

Susan said...

It's not my poem... It's one I learned in school about 50 years ago, but apparently not well enough. I can only ever remember the first four lines - and I want to recite it again every single September when I see the corn begiining to turn like in this photo.

I looked the poem up on the Internet (whatever did we do before computers?) and here it is now...


The goldenrod is yellow,
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.

The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curing in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges haunt their harvest,
In every meadow's nook;
And asters by the brookside
Make asters in the brook.

From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes' sweet odore rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.

By all those lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather,
And autumn's best of cheer.

Helen Hunt Jackson