Maples cloaked in crimson dress
the glamour girls of fall
The golden prince of autumn
has sweetly kissed them all.
The trees all sway in rhythm to
his cool melodic breeze
Then from the branches flutter down
the blushing rustic leaves.
This prince with coloured palette
soon disappears from sight
As old man winters shadow
steps forth with chilling bite.
With bitter storms of ice and snow
the old man cripples all
While I recall the splendour of
the glamour girls of fall.
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