Leaves blowing around, the neighborhood,
Stuck in every nook and cranny.
The world is brighter, the world is good,
Thousands of leaves, incredibly many.
Leaves on the trees, orange and red,
Float down with the help of the wind.
Creating kaleidoscopes within your head,
A myriad of colors that gently blend.
Yes there is magic, in the leaves of Fall,
Rainbows of color, floating to the ground.
Heeding Winter's magical call,
Tumbling down without a sound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem