The Magic Wand / Poem by Lily Swarn

The Magic Wand
 
From a pale lime green tendril fast asleep in the bosom of the tree
You sway in joyous glee all year long
In your leaf green shades
Come September and the blush appears on your cheeks
Colouring your visage like a coy bride
Reddening in embarrassment at the tender endearments of the flirty west winds
 
Hues that defy nature to splash a brilliant fire in the woods
Sickly pestilence stricken pale yellow turning into a sunny golden shade
Orange , pumpkin , saffron dancing with flames of burnt sienna
Burgundy and wine to plump up a woman’s lips
Some ash grey and purple hues too vying for attention with the magenta
Gasp worthy red shades that add life to the sedate greens that clothed the trees all year round
 
The fashion designer nonpareil ,The Creator
Wields his magic wand as fall colours paint a story of love and loss on a canvas waiting to be caressed
Warming up to the passion of autumn Its the flame that does the heated tango
Before its final goodbye from earth
Shrouded in quilts of white snow ,
 
 
 
Copyright Lily Swarn 22.9.2017
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