PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Colors abound,

Found all around,

Some of them fall,

But hardly make a sound.

Red, orange, green, and gold,

Decorate the forests,

And make them bold,

But soon disappear,

When the air turns cold.

The final color brown,

Scattered all around,

Leaving trees bare,

And giving wind an extra sound.

All colors gone,

All that’s left is white,

But come one year,

They’ll return,

And create a splendid sight.