September Equinox & Harvest moon

Hello everyone –

The September Equinox arrives on Saturday night @ 8:54 PM (CDT), bringing with it the new season of autumn (despite the summerlike weather here in East Central Illinois this past week). On Monday evening, we’ll be able to see the full Harvest Moon shining brightly – be sure to watch for it! :) Here is a quartet of classic poems to celebrate the arrival of autumn and the Harvest Moon, too.

“Autumn” (1845)

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,

With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,

Brighter than brightest silks of Samarkand,

And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!

Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,

Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand

Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,

Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!

Thy shield is the red Harvest Moon, suspended

So long beneath the heaven’s o’er-hanging eaves;

Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;

Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;

And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,

Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

“A Lyric of Autumn” (1904)

By William Stanley Braithwaite (1878-1962)

There is music in the meadows, in the air --

Autumn is here;

Skies are gray, but hearts are mellow,

Leaves are crimson, brown, and yellow;

Pines are soughing, birches stir,

And the Gypsy trail is fresh beneath the fir.

There is rhythm in the woods, and in the fields,

Nature yields:

And the harvest voices crying,

Blend with Autumn zephyrs sighing;

Tone and color, frost and fire,

Wings the nocturne Nature plays upon her lyre.

“The Moon”

By Sappho (ca. 630-570 BCE)

Translated by Sir Edwin Arnold (1832-1904)

The stars about the lovely Moon

Fade back and vanish very soon,

When, round and full, her silver face

Swims into sight, and lights all space.

“Kind Moon”

By Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

I think the Moon is very kind

To take such trouble just for me.

He came along with me from home

To keep me company.

He went as fast as I could run;

I wonder how he crossed the sky?

I'm sure he hasn’t legs and feet

Or any wings to fly.

Yet here he is above their roof;

Perhaps he thinks it isn’t right

For me to go so far alone,

Though Mother said I might.

Happy weekend! :)

Rob

September Days Are Here!

Hello everyone –

The month of September has begun, with warm days, cool nights, and the beginning of the harvest in the American Midwest. To mark the transition from summer to autumn, here are some back-to-school poems that I recall from my own elementary school days in the 1970s!

“A Calendar of Sonnets: September”

By Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)

O golden month! How high thy gold is heaped!

The yellow birch-leaves shine like bright coins strung

On wands; the chestnut's yellow pennons tongue

To every wind its harvest challenge. Steeped

In yellow, still lie fields where wheat was reaped;

And yellow still the corn sheaves, stacked among

The yellow gourds, which from the earth have wrung

Her utmost gold. To highest boughs have leaped

The purple grape, -- last thing to ripen, late

By very reason of its precious cost.

O Heart, remember, vintages are lost

If grapes do not for freezing night-dews wait.

Think, while thou sunnest thyself in Joy's estate,

Mayhap thou canst not ripen without frost!

“September” by Helen Hunt Jackson

The golden-rod is yellow;

The corn is turning brown;

The trees in apple orchards

With fruit are bending down.

The gentian’s bluest fringes

Are curling in the sun;

In dusty pods the milkweed

Its hidden silk has spun.

The sedges flaunt their harvest,

In every meadow nook;

And asters by the brook-side

Make asters in the brook.

From dewy lanes at morning

The grapes’ sweet odors rise;

At noon the roads all flutter

With yellow butterflies.

By all these lovely tokens

September days are here,

With summer’s best of weather,

And autumn’s best of cheer.

But none of all this beauty

Which floods the earth and air

Is unto me the secret

Which makes September fair.

‘Tis a thing which I remember;

To name it thrills me yet:

One day of one September

I never can forget.

“Back to School” by Helen H. Moore

Summer's almost gone now,

And on the streets we see

School buses filled with children

Where ice cream trucks should be.

“Fall Is Here” by Helen H. Moore

Fall is here. Another year is coming to an end.

Summer’s finished, summer’s gone, winter’s round the bend.

Fall is piles of crunchy leaves, orange, gold, and red.

Fall is sweaters with long sleeves and blankets on the bed.

Fall is football, fall is pumpkins, fall’s where summer ends;

And fall is coming back to school, and seeing all my friends.

Happy September to one and all! :)

Rob