“It was a very chilly September morning, it really felt like autumn. I wrote the accompanying poem:

I remember those

Beautiful September days

When from a bed of blue

The golden sun arose

And cast it’s sunny rays

On fields wet with dew.

I remember how

The mist lay in every fold

The Haws’ sparkled red

And clung from creaking bow

When mornings started cold

And the spider spun its web.

Apples drooped from leafy trees

All ripened to the core-

The Blackberries and the slows

Swallows left for warmer seas

Flying high, were seen no more

And so the seasons flow.”