October

October is a gypsy queen
in dress of red and gold

She sleeps beneath the silver moon
when nights are crisp and cold.

The meadows flame with color now,
which once were cool and green

Wild asters and the goldenrods
bow low to greet their queen.

When she is tripping through the wood
with songs so clear and sweet,

The autumn leaves come sifting down
and rustle beneath her feet.

–Winifred  C. Marshall