Yours Truly, God

Dawn's silver mantle on yon vale

Beneath blush bands begins to pale

Its slow fade unveils field and street

And highways on time’s common beat

It sets the stage of this day’s war

Where wage of dream and duty spar

October’s land begets a brush

That authors grand applause from us

For while we sleep its colors spread

Gold-scarlet-russet-bronze and red

Through wooded slope and hooded morn

A color wonderland is born

Earth is inset with lakes and streams

And brooklets tucked in mossy seams

Autumnal mirth excites their vim

Where leaf-shaped medals learn to swim

And we linger longer on banks

To chase our wonderment with thanks

God grants glimpses of paradise

Nature teases man’s hungry eyes

We gape and shape vague stuttered praise

To He who equips time with days

And days with ways that leave us awed

With masterpieces made by God

© Janet Martin