Mood For An October Night, by Edith Hope Genee
Outside, a cricket wind is stirring -
Blossoming stars turn on their silver light,
And yesterday's poplar leaves go whirring
Down the gale; dreams are in the arch
Of sky, deep cobalt in the midnight's glow,
And there are little songs that swiftly march
Down moon-paths waiting here below.
Tonight I wear my whitest gown for you,
And there are roses in the candle gloom -
Gypsy music floats across the room
With torch-songs, sung to rhythms, hazy-blue;
And there are tears, as there are always tears
For new loves, new dreams, and never-ending years.
But where is that other gay October moon?
Where are the stars I gathered in my hand?
Where is the dream set to the ragged tune,
And the night that was a midnight magic-land?
Where are the roses? Grains of petal-dust?
And the song that ached in a thrush's throat?
And the poplar leaves? Are they, too silver-rust,
While the cricket is gone and the winds are far - remote -
I press the arrows of another song
Into my heart; bind up the raveled edges
Of a dream, and with some silly pledges,
Put them away where all lost things belong.
But always through October's smoky track
Of stars, the ghosts of little songs come back!
Another poem from my vintage book "Brief Aprils", and the illustration is from the book as well; the artist's name is Don Blanding.