Thank you for bringing back the seasons of mist
and mellow fruitfulness,
Your wet sands of fertility
and the damp air, of bliss.
The gifts you once brought to me
wrapped in crystal mystics of geometry
how could I ever forget,
my first few starry nights.
The soulful peaks of ecstasy
of love,of hope, of desire
the end of my miserable days.
Those showers, that washed the late summer
the primitive biology, of existence
and how you gave birth to love,
how you raised it, like it will never fall down.
It was perhaps the nature, conspiring
to fill the fruits with ripeness to the core,
and flowers with essentials for the bees.
Thank you, beloved September
Thy art the season of hope for me