The leaves turned orange and brown,
A sign of autumn's arrival in town.

Like a king that needs no crown,
Standing tall, the tree never looks down.

Its branches stretching far and wide,
A home for creatures that need to hide.

The leaves rustle and whisper in the breeze,
A lullaby that puts my mind at ease.

In the shadows live the shrubs,
A world of green, in the nearby suburb.

They thrive in darkness, hidden from sight,
A secret garden, a world of delight.

Their leaves a tapestry of shades,
A symphony of greens, a sight to behold.

They dance and sway in the gentle breeze,
A celebration of life, a moment of peace.

Waiting for the spring's coming,
The tree rejoices the birds humming.

© Nik Celeste