Skeletons Of Summer by Ernestine Northover

Branches naked against skies of blue,

Skeletons all, with summer gone,

Stark and rigid, in morbid hue,

Oh, so sad now, to look upon.

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Festive trees no longer seen,

Nothing softening to the eye,

Only memories of what has been,

Now the leaves have said 'goodbye'.

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But once the spring comes into view,

These skeletons will live and thrive,

Those spreading arms will be clothed anew,

And once again become alive.

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New buds will sprout from boughs so bare,

And will in time, exposed limbs, disguise,

Then a glorious show, nothing will compare,

With this vision of green, against clear blue skies.

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