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.]