To Paint The Green Grass Gold

To Paint The Green Grass Gold

Gold Leaves in her hair,
Autumn stands there,
Her magic hands unfold,
To paint the green grass gold

Not long to stay,
Her colours fade away,
A touch of frost,
Her russet hues will cost.

She speaks in haste,
A whisper soon to waste,
Savour the day,
Ere Winter has his sway,

And, overnight,
Transforms the gold to white.

© Copyright 2002 Brenpoet (UN: brenmaple at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Brenpoet has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.