Ode to Autumn Colors
Contributed by Nan Potts
We sing of seasons hot, warm or cold.
We shout praises to those who’re shy or bold.
We chant tales for those of the past, of olde.
Now, let’s pipe the colors, time’s pages fold.
With golden hues leaves flutter, downed.
Upon lawn, roof and umbra they cloak the ground.
Why is this season so heartfelt, found?
Tis but Nature’s sigh, her seasons’ bound.
Their colors glow in Fall’s pale light.
Tells of Summer’s glory, all glisten bright.
They too shall fade, sear and be lost from sight.
Yet’ll be recalled during Winter’s whitest height.