Trees

Red and yellow, orange and gold
Beautiful colours, so very bold
But winter is slowly creeping round
These colours will fall down to the ground
Under our feet they will crisp and crumble
They catch on the breeze as they tumble
Stripping away, limbs left bare
Exposed to the chilly winter air
There they stand, branches outstretched
Ready for frosty patterns to be etched
They will catch the falling snow
And stand against the winds that blow
They silently wait for summer again
Through the cold and driving rain
The sun will come and leaves will grow
It will melt the ice and snow
Branches hidden with greens and yellow
Swaying in a breeze so mellow
Do they feel, do they see
How little we know about a tree
They’re just there in all their glory
I’ll bet they could tell many a story

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