Though Nature's most spectacular colours may be fading, her more subtle colours are right before our eyes, waiting to be recognized for their own beauty; I wrote this little poem in appreciation of hidden beauty.  November is the quiet month; that of reflection, remembrance, and gratitude.

November Song
 
The beautiful colours,
That climbed over fences,
Feeding our spirits
And filling our senses,
Are tenderly tucked in,
Beneath Nature's blanket,
Laid down to rest,
In Earth's trundle bed;
 
Our souls and our eyes,
Being now richly sated,
With warm happy colours,
That from earth emanated,
Seeds for the winter's
Dark days that may come;
When gray skies insist
'There's no beauty to see,'
It's then that I'll pull out
The colours in me;
 
The warmth from my hands,
The light from my smiles,
Warm colours of kindness
Antidote for our trials,
There's no greater beauty
Than those gifts when shared
With neighbours and strangers,
So glad that we cared
To help them to sing out
November's sweet song.