The acorns are falling,
From the mighty oak.
They cover the ground,
The grass fairly choke.
All over the yard,
They can be seen.
Most of them brown,
A few of them green.
Some of these acorns,
Will grow up to be,
Giant live oaks,
Magnificent trees.
The acorns are falling,
Like little brown tears.
I can hear winter calling,
It's that time of year.
11/12/10 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem