The Sun wishes to set early if it may And for the graceful birds to travel South. So the Moon wakes, casting daylight away Leading daytime temperature into doubt To Mother Nature’s kisses is she bound That her cheeks reddened to the leaves’ colors, Gifting youth this colorful playground And bringing light-hearted joyful laughters. Soon the North wind blows and she whispers cold, Her blissful hair falls into silver threads For her last breath to portray words of gold.
