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