By Rosie Moore

It is that time of the year again. Nestled between the torrid days of summer and the icy days of winter is an autumnal time to relax, enjoy and be amazed by the riotous colors of the season.

You are a thousand winds that blow

You are a diamond glint in the snow.

You are the sunlight on ripened grain,

You are the gentle autumn rain.

And when I wake in the morning hush,

You will be the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet bird in circling light.

You are the starlight at night.

“Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep,” the poem from which these words were derived, was written by Mary Elizabeth Frye in 1932. She was living in Baltimore at the time and it was the first poem she had ever written. The plight of a young German Jewish woman, Margaret Schwarzkopf inspired the poem. Margaret was concerned about her mother, who was ill in Germany, but she had been warned not to return home because of increasing anti-Semitic unrest. When her mother died, the heartbroken young woman told Frye that she never had the chance to “stand by my mother’s grave and shed a tear.” Frye found herself composing the verse on a brown paper shopping bag. Later she said that the words “just came to her” and expressed what she felt about life and death. For some unforeseeable reason this lovely poem reminds me of Autumn.

Mr. Steve Hunley informed me that I’ve been writing for the Focus for about thirteen years and every year I think I’ve written my favorite words of a beautiful song around this time. I cannot be remiss this year.

Autumn Leaves:

The falling leaves drift by the window

the autumn leaves of red and gold.

I see you lips, the summer kisses

The sun-burned hands I used to hold.

Since you went away the days grow long

And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song.

But I miss you most of all my darling

When autumn leaves start to fall.

I must admit that my favorite singer of this beautiful song is Nat King Cole. Many other have sung it but I am attune to his rendition.

Happy autumn days to all!

Thought for the day: I thank you, God, for this most amazing day; for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and for the blue dream of sky, and for everything which is natural, which is infinite. which is yes.      e.e. Cummings

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