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
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