September's door is open,
It bids us enter in.
To Summer's month of August,
It is the next of kin.
Upon its floor, dew-tinted,
We view the harvest yield;
Apples, pumpkins, sweet corn
Upon September's fields.
September's door is open;
In hope and prayer we kneel
That we might know the blessings
Of this, His bountiful yield.
~ Loise Pinkerton Fritz
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