With the call of the wildwood horn I turn to the west.
And there in the glory of the aspen and birch, she be:
The gracious lady of Autumn, Kore, the golden sister.
Her aura how it glows so full joy and abundance,
Upon a cinnamon tainted steed she sits, elegantly.
Crowned in leaves of many hues, with wheat entwined
Sweetened berries and autumn ripened fruits.
And with her stands her consort of the western winds,
Ryan of the raven hair, graced with wings of the same.
And with a nod and gentle pull of the reins.
Their autumn journey on the earth begins,
With each set they take through the mortal lands,
The trees canopies, they do cha