The Naked Trees (Autumn) Poem by Orbiam Simon

It's time to flow
The time to fall
a period to pass prime
When deciduous loose their green pages
The annual of receding
A season to decline

An hour of wave is here
When greenery depreciates
As yeender breathes ice
The night smokes dust
The trees looks worried
For their naked moment is here

A fig is looking nude
It's figure seems budding
The flower savored
Though is refreshment
The leaves speak dried
From Green to brown fly high

The frugivores aves sing joyfully
but hide no more
For the plight of trees has gripped
Their beauty
It swing away their pride shades
The AUTUMN is Ross
Indeed n-a-t-u-r-a-l.