A 25th wedding anniversary poem for my lovely wife. 

September comes

September hangs a little lower;

Each branch still be strong, but

Wearied now by the pull of

The brown old ground beneath

And I fear for all that fruit

For it must surely fall.

Yet how these trees are kissed with gold

 In our late summer blooming

Every bird still joins our song

And all the earth is turning

Let the fruit fall as it will

How else shall seeds be sowing?

Let us sit down beneath these trees

And take some time for loving