New England Ode
No face as yours have I yet to behold,
Crowned with leaves a thousand shades of flame;
You walk among the hills in robes of gold
As autumn's vital breath extols your name.
No gaudy dance of sultry Southern leas
Painted in gypsy hues with twilight's blush
Can pale your solemn glow of ice-stilled trees,
Staid against the winter's callous clutch.
No bloom that breaks the stretch of desert sands
Swells with such promise as the willows do
When spring's renewal, from your gentle hands,
Falls crystalline upon the grass like dew.
For though adrift on nature's shifting tide,
You are steadfast in me: my home, my pride.
©1999 Elizabeth Hebert
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