Leaves on the tree, tremble,
different shades of lemon-yellow...
Spiders weave their glorious wonders,
creating masterpieces of art...
Bush-leaves scattered everywhere,
swimming in the breeze,
My eyes are dancing around, searching,
taking in this mere tease,
In the moonlight I sit,
under the stars,
awe-struck by my Creator's design,
To me, it's a whirlwind of Creation--to others,
an empty parking lot.