A poem for the leaf
The leaf is a commodity that has an everlasting amount of lives,
Born in the months of spring is these emerald leaves,
Their blossoms brought in a variety of forms and looks,
Some start with extravagant flowers, some with an elementary green leaf as a beginning.
As the pulchritudinous blossoms disappear a developed leaf sits on the tenacious branch,
The leaf sits proud with experience to provide a shadow to their friends, the grass,
Some leaves are capable to hold with themselves an acquaintance known as the fruit,
They smile at the children who drip in sweat in need of some refreshing air.
Summer continues with its long days and the leaf is working hard to please the people,
Some provide them fruit, some provide them a shade for picnicking,
Busy as the leaf is it enjoys the prime of it’s life, always remembering spring, their childhood,
And waiting for Autumn when their spirits decide to leave the leaf,
The precious and holy months of Autumn arrive with its warm colors,
The leaves have colors of red, brown, yellow, orange, cinnamon, and the color of death,
Dried up the leaf falls from their lifetime caterer, the branches,
Winter freezes the friends of the leaf but when spring comes reborn is the leaf, yet again.
