In the spirit of fall, here’s a “lost verse” from Douglas McKelvey’s liturgy of “Praise to the King of Creation.”
You are the King of Autumn,
You are the Master Painter of trees,
You are the Progenitor of Pumpkins.
You are the Cider King,
the Harvest King.
You are the Lord of Gourds,
You are the Emperor of Apples.
You sit enthroned among the oaks,
upon your brow a wreath of golden birch leaves,
within your hand a staff of yellowed corn stalk,
your robe a rich maple leaf red.
You are the King of golden fields,
You are the Lord of lengthened nights.
You are the source of Hallowed delights.
You are the King of Autumn.
[Editor’s note: By “lost verse,” Chris means that he wrote this poem himself, inspired by McKelvey’s liturgy of “Praise to the King of Creation,” found in Every Moment Holy.]
Chris currently teaches writing and literature to community college students in Massachusetts. He is the author of six books of poetry, and can probably be found reading a book, drinking chai, and wearing flannel. In 2018 he and his wife Jen co-founded The Poetry Pub, an online community for poets. He enjoys walking in the woods, hanging out in coffee shops, and poking around used bookstores.