Autumn is a near perfect beauty
the fullest of colours ever painted
by the ever changing wonder of nature
even in its own decay and demise
nature paints itself into poetry and song
the artists pallet cannot express
the vivid, wild all encompassing beauty
of this season of time and place
my favourite I must admit
and for all I may have to say
there is more yet to be writ
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem