On my palette
dark and burnt and brown.
Colours that remained
After the greens were gone.
Soaked up with the heat
from every last ray of sun.
So to offer hopes of warmth
Now the year is done.
In snow, sheet and wind,
that Winters always bring,
when it's all white or grey
A brown so joyous is.
Tree trunks emerging out from hollows
That piled high with snow drifts are
Tree trunks, their rich browns, a promise
For season's change and greens that follow.
When it's summer and Browns forgotten,
pinks and yellows lead the way.
Then I think back and on what's round the corner
In winters it's Browns that make my day.
