The waves they crash upon the shore
The oceans sigh and sometimes roar
The wind blows wild and billows out
Emitting sounds quite like a shout.
It whistles past each stand of trees
Without restrictions, if you please
To wander valiant in the brush
And give each blade of grass a rush.
The gust lends impetus to all
Attentions to this force of fall
The summer’s flown, farewell a must
Tis autumn with its burning lust !
Claire V. Bogdanos 