The Quilt
Winding through the multicolored patches,
Of Nature's Quilt of Fall,
With amber leaves of sycamore,
Reaching wide and tall,
Through the scarlet Maple of crimson leaves,
Weaving through the misty meadows,
To the golden Aspen that chimes,
Within the Solstice shadows,
Comes the Silhouette of Winter,
Cloaked and fringed about so mystical,
With talons of ice so silver and stark,
Like glistening diamonds of crystal,
Making patterns on the window panes,
With points as sharp as thistle,
With sheets of grandeur smooth and sleek,
To report Autumn’s timely dismissal,
Sol plays hide-and-seek
From behind the clouds so dismal,
While greeting the seasons back again,
Bringing about Spring so blissful,
And then starts the Summer's warmth
Again to complete the quilting ritual.
i like the lyrical quality of your poem
Never stop Writing!!
m
Ron