Autumn 2004:

"A Little Elf"

A little elf sat in a tree
painting leaves
to throw at me

Leaves of yellow
and leaves of red
came tumbling down
about my head.

                                       Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard!
                                              Heap high the golden corn!
                                        No richer gift has autumn poured
                                               From out her lavish horn.

                                            Let other hands exulting glean
                                                 The apple from the pine,
                                          The orange from its glossy green,
                                                 The cluster from the vine.

                                            But let the good old corn adorn
                                                The hills our fathers trod;
                                             Still let us, for his golden corn,
                                                Send up our thanks to God.