![]() The air turns cool, the leaves turn brown, A change is taking place, And everywhere the signs appear Of Fall's approaching face. The birds begin their southward flight That takes them far away, And in their plaintive song and cry A fond goodbye they say. A season dies, a new one's born Like night gives way to day. Such is the wondrous work of God In His own chosen way. ~ Harold F. Mohn ~ ![]()
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