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Crusty November has blown into town
Wearing a much-rumpled suit of soft brown.
His hair is as tousled and brown as his suit;
He carries a basket of crisp golden fruit.
He pauses a moment to sniff the fresh air
Then, waving his arms with boldness and flair,
Sends winds to play football with crunchy brown leaves
That flutter like sparrows and clutter the eaves.
A crispy brown turkey will soon be his fare
Served up on a Thanksgiving table to share
Tart cranberry jelly and sweet candied yams,
Lush pumpkin pie and fat cherry hams.
But autumn has days that are sunny and warm
When I’ll take my dog for a stroll on the farm
And savor those fresh autumn days that remain
Before the cold winter returns once again.
The brown days of Autumn will turn into frost,
A soul may be withered, the sun may be lost.
But hearts that are warmed by the heat of His love
Will sail through the winter and soar like a dove.
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