In Autumn now the trees are dressed
In reds and golds, their very best.
A dazzling end, a fine display,
Defiant not to fade away.
And as the gold drops from the tree
It leaves the bud of things to be.
When hard times come and trees are bare,
The Springtime promise hidden there
Endures the wind, the frost, the snow,
Awaits the sun to make it grow;
To hold it warm within its gaze -
Create afresh green summer days.
Marion, this is a soothing, extraordinary beautiful poem on the seasons. It carries the reader away to the most lovely scenes of nature and far beyond. A great ten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is a very well written poem, Marion! Bravo!
thank you for your encouraging response Georgios