By a Friend
When summer's colors have rung their gong,
It's finally time for Autumn's Song.
With blue sky in the strings,
You can't help but notice the color it brings.
Yellow is in the back row horns,
Filled with leaves, dry grass & corns.
Orange makes a lovely hue,
Playing drums, right on cue.
Brown plays piano with unnatural grace,
Decorating tree trunks with swirling lace.
Singing out, the star of the show,
Red shows its great, gaudy glow.
All together, in one symphony,
They sing their great song, for you and for me.
But then winter comes, we shed a tear,
But don't fear, the symphony returns, come next year.
All relation to colors or poems, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
