The four changes.

[Keanumoreira]

A furnace burns on the forest floor,

Of embers orange and reds that soar.

The sun in spotlight catches aglow;

The leaves that dance in gold shadows.

 

The air it speaks a different tone,

And when it talks, trees turn to stone.

They shiver and buckle, their branches affright!

Whenever the wind is in its flight.

 

And so these giants begin to sunder,

Their aging sleep like veils of thunder!

One by one the poison will ripple,

Until summer’s green will falter and cripple.

 

The final change won’t soon be heard,

It won’t utter a sound or spare a word.

They’ll simply tumble; first trickle then flood,

Into a vibrant wave as thick as blood.

 

 

Readers note: In case anyone is wondering what the poem is about, it deals with the change that Autumn brings. I realize that it is vague (Which is the point, lol. Poets love to add the spice of mystery), but it is so much so that it even threw me a little off, so I thought I'd add a bit of clarity once you've had time to digest this thing. Hope you enjoyed it. :)

[LordWushin]

I saw what the poem was about and I do think it is excellently done. Autumn is my second favorite time of year - winter being first. Well done!

[Maharg67]

Very good!!! :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

[Keanumoreira]

*Bows* Thank you, thank you, no applause. :happy:

[Maharg67]

Applause!!!! Sorry, couldn't help myself! :turned: :laugh: :thumbsup: