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?