The northern winds swept across the land,
Taking away the sweet scent of spring hand in hand.
It rustles the forest floor, a carpet of fawn, chocolate and golden leaves,
That tiny fingers of rosy-cheeked cherubs throw to the skies on a frozen
The tree's once proud and gentle creatures of green,
Stand naked, tall, bald yet serene,
Whispering secrets of liars, lovers and thieves to the icy breeze.
Each tree has a story to tell of sweet summer morns to the harsh winter
The skies become a doleful grey,
Clouds of ashen covering where cobalt skies once lay.
And as night comes the moon shall dance and dart,
Between clouds of autumn that one-day shall part.