The Trees Await Their Fate
Hush, rest easy, listen and please no more dins,
Listen to the whispers of the young autumnal winds,
Tantalising and teasing the trees of their annual sins,
Down fall the secrets and away they hurriedly scurry,
Not wanting to reveal them to no one in a hurry,
The young winds sigh and then they slowly abate,
For perhaps it knows this year it's simply too late,
But with one final smile it knows next year can wait,
For the trees give their final shiver and await their fate.
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