the leaves turn brown,
A change is taking place,
And everywhere the signs appear
Of Fall's approaching face.

 

The birds begin their southward flight
That takes them far away,
And in their plaintive song and cry
A fond good-bye they say.

 

A season dies, a new one's born
Like night gives way to day.
Such is the wondrous work of God
In His own chosen way.

 

~~By Harold F. Mohn.~~