Yesterday morning, I looked out and saw some flurries flying around, nothing serious, but it reminded me of how my sister and I used to call one another when it was snowing. One of us would say, "Well, it's a fallin'". The other would reply, "Yep, it sure is!" Then we would continue on to wonder if it would lay.
I was straightening my computer desk today, and happened upon a package containing poems that she had written, and that I had collected from her apartment after her death a little less than a year ago. One of them is called Autumn Glory and she wrote it in 1955. Since it is still technically autumn, I am going to print it here for your enjoyment.
Leaves of crimson, gold, and green
In a distant woodland grove-
A glorious sight to behold-
It shows the handiwork of our Lord.
A nearby field of new-mown hay-
All stacked in mounds so high,
Should catch the glimpse of passersby-
As they go traveling on their way.
A fading sunset o'er the hills
Brings on an afterglow.
And as I watch it fade from sight,
I always seem to hear
A voice from within my very soul
Speak softly, yet so clear,
"Look close, thou soul, and you will find
That I am very near."
Margaret E. C.
Well, folks, that is it for today. More tomorrow, I reckon. This is Blabbin' Grammy, signing off for today, and I know that Margaret would have enjoyed seeing her poetry on the internet. May you each feel God's blessings this day and morrow. Love to you all.
Bye for now.