Autumn leaves with colors so gay,
Glitter with beauty each autumn day.
Red, orange, yellow and green
Blend with nature, a sight to be seen.
The golden sun in the eve goes down,
Revealing the dusk in her evening gown.
Twittering birds fly home to their nest
As the glittering sun dies far in the west.
Farmers quit work and drop their plows,
To hurry along and tend to the cows.
Existence on Earth, put away for the night,
To tirelessly wait 'til the morning light.
The first star is seen, in the heavens so high,
Coaxing the others, to lighten the sky.
A full moon brightens the cooling Earth,
Disposing of day, bringing night to birth.
March 9, 1939
'Twas he who sat on the bench that day
Wishing he were in there to play.
For all these years he looked forward to,
Show the gang just what he could do.
Tearfully his eyes drooped in despair
To a fitful dream he knew not where.
Suddenly with a burst of joy he awoke,
To his eye on the game, but his joy broke.
Remembering his teammates of fighting fury
Losing this game that brought no glory,
He leaped to his feet and shouted with rage.
"Let me play coach, I'm strong for my age!"
Down in his heart the coach felt ashamed,
For here was a boy that should be famed.
Swelling with pride and a chance for fame,
The youth left the bench into a glorious game.
On your mark! The gun's bark:
He's off to a winning lead.
Jumping with grace, he leads the race,
Clearing the hurdles with speed.
Leading the rest, doing his best,
He nears the finish line.
Up goes a cheer, leaving no fear,
To the winner of a race so fine.
OR
On your mark, the gun's bark,
He's off to a winning start,
Jumping with grace, he leads the race,
Clearing the hurdles apart.
He leads the rest, doing his best,
As he nears the finish line.
Up goes a cheer, leaving no fear,
To the winner of a race so fine.
March 3, 1940