Mistress of Winter

She comes on the last winds of summer.
Bringing in the harvest, with joy,
As the school bells ring invitation,
To sun bronzed girls and boys.
She sets out the feast of Indian summer
with football, hayrides then Halloween.
As grain and hay, fill silo and loft
She smiles at the wealth of the glean.
The days shrink as minutes are lost.
Night gallantly winning the prize,
paying back with the first frost.
As sun melts diamonds, to reveal her surprise.
Majestic trees show off their finery,
In orange, yellow, red and gold.
She watches the change each passing day,
Sighing in pleasure as the magic unfolds.
Yawning, she gives up her toil,
Watching the wind and rain, instead,
As it strips her fertile body bare,
She takes the old man to her bed.