When I was 7 years old I memorized the poem "September" by Helen Hunt Jackson which started like this...
The goldenrod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
I think of that poem every year in September...especially when I see the goldenrod blooming all over.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer's best of weather,
And autumn's best of cheer.
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