Morning breaks; deafening bold,
a weary sky turns to gold.
Remnants of snow melt from the scene,
Slushy grey turns to green.
Young buds start to bloom, in sync,
What once was green turns to pink.
Then mother nature shakes her head
and yellow leaves turn to red.
Sunlight shortens day by day,
Vibrant blues turn to grey.
Autumn leaves fall to the ground,
Luscious greens turn to brown.
Seasons change from day to night,
The forest floor turns back to white.
Then it starts again, time to repeat,
Mother nature makes brush and palette meet.
Nurtured, tended like a careful lover,
She turns into a spectrum of colour.