Olivine to amber drifts through golden, saffron hues; citrine sparkles as it shifts where bronze and copper fuse. Quiet mist untangles slow above the glass-like stream; branches shimmer in the glow of evening's fading gleam. Frost unspools its crystal threads as diamonds cling to bark, crisping over acorn beds till earth once more falls dark. Shadows crawl as violet creeps across the mossy glade; sun slips softly from its keep, till colours pale to shade. Olivine to amber drifts— and ev'ry bud will rest, dreaming long of springtime's gifts, when all the earth is dressed.
