(Note: I normally do not write poems that rhyme, but I thought I would give it a try, tell me what you think.)
There are explosions of color,
The trees are giving their all,
They are pressing themselves further,
Before their leaves fall.
For this is there last chance
To show what makes beauty, beautiful
It puts the beholder in a trance
The trees are quite dutiful
To this act that makes life all the more so beautiful.
It is a sad season
In which trees give up their leaves
For it is the reason
That the cold wind and weather both become thieves.
The trees shall lie naked
Until the sweet breeze of spring,
Which is oh so sacred
Blows and makes the trees sing.
Life shall begin again
Things shall go on.
Trees will once again attain
The life they thought was forever gone.