Naturally embellished ornaments
Delicately hung on trees
Swiftly swaying side to side
By the cool refreshing breeze
.
Vibrant in tone and in colour
With such a fragile structure
Whether it be wind or rain too extreme
The ornament is ruptured
.
It's a privilege to behold
Such beauty and grace
Unfortunately too common
For one to appreciate
.
They arrive and depart
Year after year
Only to be trampled on, swept up,
And blown away from here.
.
Despite the abuse
They constantly return
As lovely as ever
Their intentions hard to discern
.
Perhaps to flourish
Is their reason
To flood the street with colour
For just one season
.
How lovely they are
As they drift off, flying
How is it that they're most festive
When they are dying?