Autumn Leaves

How silently they tumble down, And come to rest upon the ground, Yellow, red, and brown, The tree sheds its crown, Twisting, turning is through the air, Till all the trees stand dark and bare, Lay like carpet, rich and rare, Beneath the trees without a care, Exhausted, tired is their fall, Next is the great snowfall, But through the days past like breeze, They hope to meet with the trees, Rough winds and cold in between, Couldn’t quash their desire to be green, Lying on the floor, waiting for the spring, Patient, still before the moment of fling.