Fall

FALL Like butterflies fluttering to the ground The falling gold leaves accept their fate To lay, as a soft carpet in a thick mound And for winter to come, patiently wait Leaves are now red, as if deeply blushed Like butterflies fluttering to the ground A slow and gentle drop, never rushed And in cool autumn air, make no sound Among the leaves, all shapes are found That time of year has now finally arrived Like butterflies fluttering to the ground Yet content that they have not survived They allow the tree its winter preparation Knowing that they may be blown around To follow the natural cycle since creation Like butterflies fluttering to the ground