The sun makes them gleam
The rain makes them sparkle
The air makes them sway
Dizzy and quite dazzled
They dance a merry jig
To the song of the bird
A scene rarely seen
A song rarely heard
They bow to the wind
And swirl as it whirls
Just like a bunch
Of merry, dancing girls
They wave to the men
Who slowly walk past
They always stay alert
Right unto the last
Sometimes they are stiff
Sometimes they are slender
But they mostly are
So green and so tender
Mostly they are green
Sometimes they are red
But they all are appealing
Alive, fading or dead
They are the green trumpeters
Who always herald spring
Gaiety, joy and freshness
These leaves always bring