Scene Poem by Angiuli Aguiar

Regard those leeves the breeze has blown!
I see the wind's a bitter clown.
Did fancy drive them or did joy?
I fancy both did them destroy.
But is it not a merry scene?
Fool stains upon the waters clean.
But they are free from that tree's branch.
As cold snow from an avalanch.
A vision for a painter's brush!
As music from a painted thrush.
Your eyes are blind for beauty's strife.
Your heart is cold for wasted life.