Seasons

The wind carresses the leaves,
Oh, how it loves them so.
And the rain feeds it's trunks,
How it wishes they would grow.

But the leaves, they'll surely fall
Into a pile of decay,
Until the wind lifts them up
And carries them far away.

How they once grew so green,
A leaf filled with life,
Until the coldness settles in
And leaves them brittle and dry.

A season so quick to come
as quicky as it goes, 
There the tree still stands
In the painfully freezing snow.

Alone the tree will stay
Where there are no leaves to tickle,
And where the rain molds into ice,
Leaving a family of silver 'sicles.

Now, it's only companion
Is that of the beaming sun
keeping her nice and warm.
Until the next season returns,
And the leaves rebloom,
Bringing back her calm. 

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