Portrait Of Fall

Leaves are saying soft good-byes
As they come floating down
To make a nature’s carpet
Of yellow, red, and brown.

Mountain tops, now turned to white,
Forewarn of winter chills,
While trees, like golden rivers,
Wind their way up through the hills.

Throughout our world’s creation
You will ever find it thus,
Kaleidoscopes of color,
In God’s hand, the artist’s brush.