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ChillA delicate petal in soft gold light,
The warm summers eve, a gentle night;
Flickers and swirls in the fresh autumn wind.
After a while, just like the summer,
It shimmers and floats, and fades from sight.
The last leaves fallen, cold is here;
The winter chill is drawing near.
The trees are barren,
The skies are clear.
A season of beauty so pure and clean,
This side of it so oft unseen;
The frozen glass, a field of ice,
Watch it glitter just once or twice.
So look around, go on, it's free,
Find this beauty for all to see.
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