Autumn's on the hilltops
With gold enough for all
A fortune in the tree tops
So bright on leaves that fall
Each tree outdoes its' fellow
The true colors of its' gown
Are crimson gold and yellow
A deep plus priceless brown
Distant knolls are frosty white
God's keen edge is the breeze
It hums low through the night
Totally tiptoes through the trees.
~ Meshelle Brown ~
Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved
