The firmament's a field of cotton Ripe for the picking Vermillion and flaxen hues Chase the amiable breeze And thoughts of heaven flit by In a sublime November sky.
The leaves are piling on the driveway On the byways, they trickle down Acorns are plopping Dropping recklessly to the ground And the changes can’t be denied In a sublime November sky.
The perfection of an autumn day Limitless in its depth The wonder of creation Peace abundant in every breath And there’s a love upon which I rely Written in a sublime November sky.