So delicately shaped and shaded in green,
Such variety of texture and line,
This one is rounded with soft graceful curves
And etched with a tracery so fine.
That one is thick, with a dark shiny surface,
As if polished by hand, till it glows,
Another, though matt is almost opaque
And each tender line, gently shows,
No poet could find all the words to describe,
No sculptor could ever define
The colour and facets of loveliness here,
As they dance in the Summer sunshine,
Soon, come September, a change will occur
In the woodland and forest and dell,
Such dramatic new colours will replace the green
Into gold, crimson, orange as well,
Even though there is change, in the season of Autumn,
Nought can with their beauty compete,
Some may be withered, but still make a carpet
As they lie, lovely still, neath the feet,
In Winter, they're storing and hiding their brilliance
To delight us, when Spring fills the land,
But it's well worth the waiting,
To gaze at the beauty
Of this small leaf, I hold in my hand.